


Codinome Beija-Flor

by autumntulip



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Actor Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Angst, Jeon Wonwoo is Whipped, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Modern Royalty, Prince Jeon Wonwoo, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, fanboy wonwoo, prince harry x meghan markle au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumntulip/pseuds/autumntulip
Summary: English title: Codename HummingbirdPrince Jeon Wonwoo of the Kingdom of Korea had never been very pleased with his royal life, secretly seeking refuge in the works of actor Wen Junhui. Until the day Junhui is invited to a party at the castle, turning Wonwoo’s life upside down.or:A Prince Harry/Meghan Markle AUformer Ao3 user brunettelovegood
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 43
Kudos: 183





	1. Second Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English title: Code Name Hummingbird ("beija-flor" literal translation in Portuguese = "kisses flower"). Based on Cazuza’s [Condinome Beija-flor](https://open.spotify.com/track/5yFI0Vs3x4EbeIDerT0ck1?si=lymVTmPIS0Caks1I8MdWHQ) (just the title, not the lyrics, which are way more angst than this plot!).  
> All dramas or movies created for this fic are somehow based on actual Brazilian soap operas, with adjustments to fit the plot. All soap opera title translations are mine—I didn’t check how they were actually translated. Thanks my friend J for helping me with the classic soap operas <3  
> Thanks my beta P for the constant support you give me daily <3  
> Also, I want to thank and dedicate this fic to all wonhuists/meow meows on twitter: I wouldn’t be here writing if it wasn’t for you. Thank you, from all my heart.
> 
> Honestly, I just wanna have fun writing this story, and I hope you can have fun too :)

Although Prince Jeon Wonwoo of the Kingdom of Korea never failed to comply with his royal duties, it was widely known in the castle that Thursday evenings were his sacred personal time, unnegotiable. And right now, he was running late.

He had been on the stalls the entire afternoon, posing for pictures alongside his older brother, most likely the next king, trying very hard to follow the photographer’s orders of _could you please sweat less, Your Highness_ , even if it was one of the hottest days of Summer and they were making him wear his whole jockey attire. He had no idea about which purpose these photos served—he also couldn’t care less.

The afternoon _heat torture_ was only one of the several reasons Jeon Wonwoo was absolutely not pleased on being part of the Korean Royal Family. Secretly not pleased, of course. The fact he was now about to be late for his personal Thursday evening appointment was the new addition to the only increasing list of displeasure reasons. The sharp angles of his features made this clearly visible.

“New arriving time is 7:05, your highness,” informed agent Lee, one of his most loyal bodyguards. Lee Jihoon was his age, way shorter than Wonwoo, but his skills and high training made Wonwoo trust him blindly.

“We can use the Royal Siren and get there at least ten minutes earlier. Fifteen, if I was driving,” agent Kwon contributed, glancing teasingly at Jihoon by his side, the one actually behind the wheel. Although he also had their age, Kwon Soonyoung’s personality was completely opposite from his partner, and Wonwoo trusted him—maybe not blindly—especially because he had _insane_ instincts. And very questionable life choices involving tiger paraphernalia, if Wonwoo had to be honest.

“Absolutely not, Soonyoung. This is not a royal emergence,” Wonwoo replied from the backseat. He sighed, resigned. It was only five minutes. He could catch what he missed in a rerun. In the past, the royal life had taken away way more from him, most of it unrepairable by nature. 

Like the fact the world had witnessed his childhood, his teenagerhood, his mistakes, without his consent. The fact it didn’t matter whether he was an introvert since every detail of his life was considered a national matter. He hadn’t had the chance to learn with his mistakes simply because he wasn’t allowed to commit them. Wonwoo had to grow up not only pretending to be what the country needed him to but also burying inside himself his parents’ fights, the obvious fall down of their marriage, the infamous divorce, the media always present disrespect. Then, his stepmother and the fact his father was a self-absorbed idiot, so unpopular that all conjectures pointed to his resignation to the throne would follow when Wonwoo grandmother passed, and his older brother, Bohyuk, would be crowned king.

The royal life had taken away unrepairable things, the greatest of them being his mother’s absence, before and after her death.

Because his father and grandparents could blame the media all they wanted over the doomed car crash (and Wonwoo would always internally blame them as well), but the years before it happened, right after the divorce, were marked by he and Bohyuk desperately missing their mother—and the only to blame for the distance settled between mother and children had been the royal family. Wonwoo would never forget, never forgive.

At 7:04 PM, as he crossed the castle’s high doors and determinedly marched through corridors showcasing the portraits of his ancestors towards his chambers in the East Wing, Wonwoo bitterly recalled he also couldn’t forget or forgive he had no choice but to hide who he really was.

“No interruptions,” he warned Jihoon and Soonyoung at the door. Both nodded, exactly like every Thursday when Wonwoo said the same line every time. He closed the doors behind him, still advancing deliberately towards his TV. His chambers consisted of a small living room with a bar, an attached room housing his bedroom, private bathroom, and closet room—and a lot of old, outdated wallpaper he couldn’t do anything about.

Turning the TV on, Wonwoo opened the first buttons of his shirt and took off his jacket, getting comfortable on his couch. At least he had privacy inside his chambers, where he could relish this leisure time in peace—because the last thing Prince Jeon Wonwoo wanted was to have people prying over his devotion to certain TV dramas.

If this apparent innocent hobby were out, soon the whole world would put two and two together and realize Prince Jeon Wonwoo’s favorite dramas were the ones Wen Junhui, Chinese actor currently rising in the Korean market, was part of. Wonwoo didn't want the media to steal yet another precious part of his life from him. Fanboying over Junhui was his secret, his escape from having all his life spread out to the world—this was his, and his only. 

In fact, being a Wen Junhui fan was probably one of the last aspects of his life he could separate from royalty. He had come out a few years ago, right after Bohyuk's wedding, primarily to end the pressure of his own marriage before it started. Unfortunately, his grandmother had sternly told him "he was not the first and would not be the last homosexual in the royal family. If your great father had dealt with marrying a woman and strengthened their bloodline, why wouldn't Wonwoo?"

So all the untouched truth left about himself was supporting Wen Junhui, handsome and captivating star of the new Korean sensation, _Seoul Avenue_. Which aired every Thursday evening, and Wonwoo religiously watched it live. It was the only moment he could truly evade his own mind, lost in the life of Park Haejin, Junhui's role, and forgetting his own.

This was the first main role in Junhui's Korean career. Before that, he had only played the foreign sidekick, always charming and comic relief at times. And that was how Wonwoo had discovered him—in a frustrating evening, zapping the channels aimlessly until the handsome man with a light accent took over the screen, smirking to the main character and stealing Wonwoo’s attention ever since. After searching and streaming every Korean drama Junhui had starred in, he went through the Chinese soap operas, Chinese movies, and finally through Wen Junhui's child actor career. It was adorable, and also very relatable with Wonwoo’s own public early years.

It had then popped out of fiction. Wonwoo felt the need to get to know the man behind the roles he played, as much as possible. He dived into interviews, TV shows, and even MC showcases. After all that, it was inevitable—he secretly bought a new, second phone just to create his secret Wen Junhui fan account (zero followers and locked). He kept the phone inside the safe box he had to acquire to hide his other Wen Junhui merch. Most of it was there—except the almost six feet tall framed open-shirt pic Wonwoo had succumbed to buy in a dark, drunk day when he just wanted at least a bit of beauty in his life. (Jihoon had received the frame the next day. He said nothing. Wonwoo would be forever grateful.) Wonwoo kept it within a special cover inside his private closet, the one only he had access to. He took it out in "special and _safe"_ occasions of pleasure, as he referred to them inside his head. 

It was absolutely tiring and undeniable urgent to hide he stanned Wen Junhui. 

Sometimes Wonwoo wondered why he bothered to hide collectible photocards and Polaroids inside a safe box. But it only took a second of Junhui on screen, even in his worst-written sidekick roles, to prove him it was worth it—it lightened his heart, and Wonwoo had learned he should treasure anything that produced such effect. 

And it was happening again. Minutes into the episode, Wonwoo’s legs were already under him, his arms had found a pillow to hold tight, all without him noticing. He blinked, a tear rolling down his cheeks, following others Wonwoo hadn’t been aware of. It was understandable—on the screen, Junhui was crying as well after finding out he had been betrayed by one of his dearest friends.

Wonwoo sighed. Junhui didn’t deserve that. Scratch that, Park Haejin didn’t deserve that. After his widowed mother had come to Korean with him when he was very young, he watched her leave him in an orphanage, too sick and poor to look after him. Junhui’s character had been adopted by a couple who worked in a dump and mistreated him greatly. He had emancipated himself and made a fortune after selling an app. His terrible adoptive family had followed him—Park Haejin had a heart too good to refuse them. His great ordeal was not finding true love, despite being kind and generous at all times.

Although Wonwoo’s mind was aware the plot was a collection of cliches, he was hooked. Junhui’s character had all potential to be a boring main character, but his take on it had captivated the audience from day one. Only four episodes later, the drama was by far the success of the decade—and Junhui was presently the country's most required actor.

As a celebrity himself, Wonwoo oscillated on avoiding to think about Junhui increasing fame and going into its consequences too deeply. The royal family still held grand events, guesting celebrities and selected members of the high society. Although TV drama actors were rare appearances, there was a part of Wonwoo, a part of his mind that normally awoke when he was tucked in bed trying to sleep, who reasoned Junhui had become trendy enough to receive an invitation. It messed with his head, hoping. On one hand, he was afraid of ruining his escape route—imagine actually meeting Wen Junhui just to find out he was a jerk (Wonwoo knew it was impossible)? Having his two worlds colliding sounded terribly dangerous. However, on the other hand, it sounded absolutely crazy to his ears to pass by the possibility of seeing Wen Junhui in flesh. He usually fell asleep imagining having Junhui as a guest to the court, but still unsure whether this was something he really wanted.

It didn’t matter anyway. If there was one thing Wonwoo had learned was that being a prince entailed no sort of freedom to choose or decide on anything important. Anything important at all.

He could only enjoy the hours he could forget his royalty and immerse himself in Wen Junhui’s big eyes. That night, like usual, he was watching the drama so entranced Wonwoo jumped in surprise when it got to an end. He sighed, sadness already returning to his veins. Wonwoo showered quickly and cocooned himself inside his giant bed. Like every Thursday, he didn’t have dinner—he couldn’t gather strength to face reality after Junhui had comforted him. He had unlocked his safe to grab his fandom phone before going to bed, and would certainly feel asleep rewatching some Junhui interview, the actor’s candid voice lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

***

Wonwoo’s refuge always had an end in the morning, when he woke up. That Friday was no different—he dragged himself out of bed, brushed his teeth avoiding his own gaze on the mirror, like the image would tell him a truth he couldn’t deal with, and proceeded downstairs to have breakfast in the private royal family dining room.

There were days his luck was by his side and he would finish before anyone arrived, but Wonwoo knew as soon as he entered the room that today was the opposite of that. His stepmother was already there, her attention divided between the bread on her right hand and Yoon Jeonghan, castle’s Head of Royal Communications, standing on her other side.

“Oh, Jeonghan! I’m so pleased! You’re really an angel! I can’t believe you really managed to convince her to approve it for my birthday party.”

“Oh, Lady Lim, your Majesty the Queen was very welcomed to your suggestion. She said herself it has been a while a drama hasn’t really captured her attention like this one.”

Wonwoo paused his cup of coffee midair for a tiny second to glance at the pair on the other side of the table. He thought Jeonghan had been looking at him, but in a blink of an eye, the other was still smiling pleasantly at Wonwoo’s stepmother. He focused on pretending to pay attention at his breakfast, his ears attentive to their conversation.

“Let me see the RSVP list!”

“Of course, Lady Lim,” Wonwoo heard paper being handled and a sudden too high cry that made him jump.

“He is really coming! What a delight! My opera club friends will be so jealous!”

Head still down, Wonwoo did his best to pretend the conversation had no effect over him, although the truth was he felt the strawberry jelly numbing his tongue and his legs were nervously shaking under the table. Incapable of hiding any other sort of feelings at that point, he tuned their voices out and focused on a chant of _it’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not him_ inside his head.

Soon Lady Lim was leaving the room, too excited to pay him any attention. Against all his self-defense instincts, Wonwoo called Jeonghan before he left the room behind her.

“Can I please see Lady Lim’s birthday party guest list as well?”

Jeonghan smirked, and Wonwoo could swear all his secrets were shining on his own skin.

“Why? You don’t care about parties. You always leave after precisely two hours, as per your deal with your grandmother the Queen, Your Highness.”

It was true. Jeonghan himself had come up with the agreement after witnessing grumpy-Wonwoo too many times putting through posh events. He reasoned someday Wonwoo would break and he would be the one to clean up the mess. Wonwoo was very grateful, but right now he _needed_ to see the guest list. His reply was just pointedly reaching his hand out. Jeonghan bowed his head slightly and complied with his request.

As soon as the paper was in Wonwoo’s hands, he was ready to screen the names searching for the familiar combination of letters, but he didn’t need to.

Right on the top of the list of confirmed guests was Wen Junhui’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this first chapter, please let me know by leaving kudos or commenting. You can also reach me in [twitter](https://twitter.com/keepcaratin) or [CC](https://curiouscat.me/keepcaratin)!  
> This will be a long ride. It’s the first time I’ll be basically writing everything while posting. I don’t even know how many chapters this will have =O I’m trying to establish a writing routine, but I’m a slow writer, so I was hoping to have a new chapter every other week, but no guarantees :(  
> You can check my other fics in my [profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunettelovegood/profile) to see if there is anything else you like while waiting :)


	2. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Prince Wonwoo has a plan to greet actor Wen Junhui and not embarrass himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, I have a feeling you'll relate with Jeon Wonwoo in this chapter. I'm certainly projecting too much on his character *sighs in mewos so Jun can hear me*
> 
> (but seriously, I hope you enjoy this as much as I'm having fun to write it)

Wonwoo had debated for days with himself on what exactly he should do about his stepmother's birthday party. His decision oscillated between confidently approaching his idol to faking a stomachache and not going to the party at all. Some days he would even assess what his closet room had to offer, trying out some outfits he remembered had created a buzz with the press. He considered his hair, which he knew people seemed to like a bit longer than the current length, a fact that, unfortunately, there wasn’t anything he could do about. After styling his hair quickly, he would try his suits and rehearse his introduction to Junhui looking at the mirror, evaluating what would be the actor’s point of view. Usually, it didn’t take long for him to get flustered and just give up on the whole thing, taking his clothes off and throwing it all on the floor in frustration. Hours later, the cycle would begin again.

His behavior seemed nonsensical at first, but then Wonwoo realized it—if it was obvious he couldn’t give up, he had no choice but to face the fact he would be going to the party and talking to Wen Junhui there. There was no chance he could not do it, even if there were great risks involved.

And he had tried to think about the risks, oh, he had. Wonwoo considered what would happen if the press found out he was a Wen Junhui fan, how this fact would accompany him throughout his whole life, not only when his name was mentioned organically, but every time there was a political scandal to make the audience forget about or simply there was nothing juicy enough to bring the papers the money they needed. Wonwoo knew too well how the relationship between crown and press worked, after all. It would also bring some discredit to the royal family, somehow, although he honestly couldn’t care much about this particular side effect.

But what really scared Wonwoo was to jeopardize his safe place. The truth was he had been relying so deeply on being a Junhui fan he could endure anything, from the crown fall to being the main target of the press attacks, if he could go back to watch Junhui acting at the end of the day. It sounded healthier than the life he led before.

All things considered, he really couldn’t imagine himself staying in his room, pretending to be sick, when his favorite actor was just downstairs. It was unthinkable. So Wonwoo had come up with a plan: he would approach Wen Junhui and casually congratulate him for being the most handsome—no! He would congratulate him on his extraordinary talent and all he had been doing for the Korean people in the last years. After Junhui politely expressed his gratitude, Wonwoo would excuse himself, run to the other side of the room, and freak out silently, watching Junhui from far away in a non-creepy, discreet way during the rest of the night. That was his plan, and he would stick to it, no matter how dumb his brain would get when close to Junhui.

So he ordered a navy-blue suit, booked the best hairstylist his hair had ever seen and did his best to not freak out as the days went by. He thought he was doing a good job until his brother asked him what he had done wrong to be so engrossed in the birthday party of someone they both disliked considerably. Wonwoo pretended he had no idea what Bohyuk was talking about.

Suddenly it was Friday, the day of the party, and Wonwoo’s nerves were challenging his guts. But he held still. Before going downstairs to the party wing, he unlocked his safe and took a look at his favorite Junhui trading card, savoring the moment—he didn’t know how much would change after that night, whether he would ever look at Junhui endearing smile, immortalized in that perfect selfie, the same way again. Heart pounding within his chest, he caressed Junhui’s cheek on the image in goodbye, returned it to his safe, and left the room after locking it again.

When the door closed behind him, he was Prince Jeon Wonwoo of the Korean Kingdom once again, but this time, a part of his fanboy persona had slipped through his chambers’ doors as well. He marched towards the party more vigorously than usual, in an attempt to hide his secret self by force. His hands sweated anyway.

He passed by Jihoon and Soonyoung nodding to them. Both were standing unmoving by the hall that opened to the West Wing. In palace events like this one, in which the location was under control, security usually could keep a bit more distance than in other parties.

Wonwoo crossed the wide-open double doors of the party parlor holding his breath, too much aware there were no walls between him and Wen Junhui anymore. As soon as he was in, a taste of disappointment threatened to invade his mouth—although he was conscious he was fashionably late, he didn’t expect a crowd already formed, preventing him to have a clear path towards Junhui. Slightly grimacing in annoyance over his own naivety, Wonwoo discreetly contoured the room, aiming for waiters holding trays of champagne and to avoid all nonsensical chit chat as much as possible. He was also seeking the best spot to look for Junhui, of course, and as soon as he found a corner with wide coverage from the whole room, he settled, eyes hovering through the crowd.

Heart beating fast, his eyes checked person by person, gathering by gathering, and when he was close to thinking the actor had not arrived yet, he found him. His heart skipped a beat, and all was silent for a second—on the other side of the room, talking to a small group of middle-aged ladies, was Wen Junhui. He was wearing a light gray suit and a contrasting provocative burgundy tie, his copper-toned hair was stylish in a perfect wave, and—oh god, Wonwoo could swear he was seeing (with all his myopia) an earring pending from his left ear.

Wonwoo had not prepared himself for the earring.

The bright smile? Yes. The big shining doe eyes? Yes. The marbled nose? Definitely. But Junhui hadn’t been using the earring in months. Wonwoo had assumed… Well, he also didn’t foresee being in his second glass of champagne less than ten minutes into the party. He just had to make sure the rest of his plan didn’t fall into shambles as well.

But for that to happen, Wonwoo had to find a clear opening to go and talk to the other man _alone_. Obviously, the protagonist of the most popular ongoing drama in Korea was also the most requested guest to engage in conversation with—in absolutely everyone’s opinion. Wonwoo was such a fool. It had been more than an hour, and Junhui had been moving from conversation to conversation, someone always dragging him to meet their friends. His smile never faltered, but Wonwoo thought the whole ordeal looked tiresome.

Wonwoo himself ended up being carried into some polite conversations. Between balancing his replies into courteous and not encouraging, he lost sight of Junhui a couple of times. Only after the cake had been cut (way too sweet, in his opinion), and Jeonghan had spared him shocked looks twice (he had been there for more than three hours already, it was understandable), Wonwoo found an opening.

He saw Junhui leaning casually at the bar, a cocktail in hand, aimlessly looking at the crowd. Maybe everyone present had already talked to him.

Well, not everyone.

Swallowing, Wonwoo marched across the room, dodging from people and whispering ‘ _excuse me’s_ ,’ his eyes never leaving his target. He was almost there when Junhui caught his eyes, and the few meters between them turned into kilometers. Yes, the earring was really there, he could confirm it now. Maybe Wonwoo expected Junhui to show some annoyance for yet another member of the royal family to be bothering him, but nothing of the sort crossed Junhui’s face. Feeling brave, Wonwoo didn’t spare one second when he finally got in front of him.

“Mr. Wen—”

“You’re so beautiful!” Junhui interrupted him. His eyes widened and his mouth went slightly agape, and all Wonwoo could think about was that, yes, he was right about Junhui—he could feel in the air all the sincerity the actor had always transmitted, and that Wonwoo had always believed to be genuine. Every muscle from the actor’s body said so.

Of course, after that Wonwoo’s brain short-circuited. He was frozen on spot, not a word leaving his lips in complete shock—Wen Junhui thought Wonwoo was beautiful. _So_ beautiful. That was not in Wonwoo’s plan. Not at all. Besides, the plan included staying away as much as possible from the word ‘beautiful,’ and that had gone to hell now.

The reply was too tempting to be ignored. Wonwoo was not strong enough.

“Thank you, but there is no beauty that beats yours in this room tonight, Mr. Wen,” Wonwoo tried to deliver the compliment as seriously as possible, but he felt his cheeks muscles hard to control.

“Wow! You can’t just say these things with this deep voice of yours, Your Highness!” Junhui said exasperated. He had one hand holding his heart, and there was a light blush on his cheeks. “I don’t think I have heard you speak before. Your voice is really memorable.”

What the hell was happening? Was Wen Junhui complimenting him _again_? Twenty seconds into the plan and nothing made sense anymore.

“The press is usually happy with just my pictures. They are not very interested in what I have to say.”

“Oh, that’s a pity,” Junhui pouted, then smirked. “I’m interested in what you have to say.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows replied for him rising on his brow.

“Aren’t you tired from hearing royals and their friends saying nonsense the whole evening?”

Junhui choked over his cocktail.

“Now I’m really interested in what you have to say,” he managed to reply after recovering from some coughing. A bit of cockiness had returned to his posture. “Please, tell me, Your Highness, what you have to say to me—since you’re the one who approached me just now—that is different from what your kind relatives have been saying to me tonight?”

That was it. Back to the plan. Wonwoo straightened his posture and cleared his throat.

“I wanted to thank you personally for all you have been doing for the Korean people in the past years. Your talent is extraordinary, and I—the Korean people is very lucky to have you in our entertainment industry.”

Junhui stared at him, his eyes a bit narrowed.

“Although most of your aunties were pretty insistent on complimenting my body—” Wonwoo busied himself pretending to fix his shirt cuffs, “the rest is basically the same everyone has said to me. Very close, indeed, to what Your Majesty said. Is that nonsense to you? Or it is only when others say it to me?” Junhui concluded with a smirk, his eyes shining deviously.

Well, that was great. Wonwoo’s days of preparation were equivalent to his aunties’ drunk speech. He wanted the ground to swallow him up.

“If that’s the case,” he replied embarrassed, avoiding Junhui’s eyes. “I won’t be bothering you saying it all again.”

He turned to leave, but a hand fetched his upper arm. _Junhui was touching him._

“Wait!” He called Wonwoo. “I never said it bothered me. You _did it_! I love hearing what my fans have to say! I wouldn’t be an actor if I didn’t.”

Wonwoo looked at him skeptically.

“You must have some sort of threshold,” he questioned.

“Nops! If I do, I still haven’t found it,” Junhui leaned proudly on the bar counter. “Once I had a fan sign event that took over five hours, and I could have gone longer.”

Wonwoo knew the occasion he was referring to, of course. It had been a special event last year when Junhui had just started as the spokesman of a brand of beauty products. He couldn’t say anything to indicate he was aware of this information, though, so he went with the first thing that crossed his brain.

“Lots of stamina, then.”

 _Oh, god, he was an idiot._ Wonwoo watched in horror Junhui’s face turn from oddity to malicious understanding as his own brain was catching up with all the meaning his words implied.

“Is this a question?”

“No! I didn’t mean—I—”

“Pity, I’d love to answer it for you,” Junhui replied maliciously, sipping his drink without looking at Wonwoo.

The scene in front of him was suddenly _too much_ , and Wonwoo could feel his brain malfunctioning. He should leave, _now_ , before his mouth got faster than his mind and—

“I thought it was really incredible what you did last year, during the fan sign, I mean. I wouldn’t be able to endure so long under everyone’s watch.” There is was. Wonwoo lasted two minutes before _ruining everything_.

Junhui’s eyes narrowed again, suspiciously.

“You know about the fan sign,” he asserted. Wonwoo swallowed—he didn’t know how to get out of this one. Junhui stepped away from the bar counter, eyeing Wonwoo closely. “How much are you familiar with my work, Your Highness?”

Wonwoo bit his lip. All sense told him to deny it, there was no reason to tell the truth. But it was Wen Junhui asking him, cute cheeks and candid eyes right in front of him. It was a miracle he hadn’t fainted yet, all things considered.

“Maybe a little bit,” it was the best he could do.

The smile that came to life in Junhui’s face was worth all embarrassment and terrible consequences that would certainly be part of Wonwoo’s life from now on. The actor stepped closer to him, resting his right elbow on the bar counter and giving Wonwoo the most interested, curious look he had ever received.

“Really? Do you have a favorite?” he asked expectantly.

That was a dangerous question, coming from the most threatening man on Earth for Wonwoo. Instantly, a list came up on his mind, and there was no way he would be able to attenuate his reply now.

“I really liked _The Next Target_ , until you died.”

“Oh, _The Next Target_! Wow, that was so much fun! Especially my death. I had to jump several times because the lightning didn’t look like an ‘ _elevator shaft convincingly enough_ ,’” he rolled his eyes. “But wait—this is a Chinese drama, from before I even started my career here.”

Wonwoo blushed.

“You have been in only seven Korean dramas, I mean—” Ok, this reply would not improve his situation.

Fortunately, Junhui just waved a hand, stopping him.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” then, he turned to the bartender. “Can I get another two of this?” he pointed to his own drink. The bartender nodded, and Junhui turned to Wonwoo again, the same dizzyingly smile on his lips. “Now tell me, Prince Jeon Wonwoo, tell me your second favorite.”

Expecting to wake up at any moment now, from a dream or a nightmare, he wasn’t sure, Wonwoo cleared his throat and dove into his whole list, in the most dignified way he could manage. Junhui would interrupt him sometimes, to laugh, reminisce, or tell Wonwoo a behind the scenes tale. The next time he noticed, Wonwoo was leaning on the bar counter, copying Junhui’s position, his body and mind relaxed.

It was very similar to how he felt watching Junhui on TV, but something was different.

He had just told Junhui how confusing the plot of _Dance with Me_ —which actually was about twin brothers separated at birth—had been at first and delighted himself on making Junhui laugh so wholeheartedly once again when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He turned to find an amused Jeonghan by his side and an almost empty ballroom behind him.

“Your Highness, Mr. Wen,” Jeonghan curtsied politely. “Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to check if you recall your early appointment tomorrow morning.”

Wonwoo knew there was no appointment. That was the usual excuse Jeonghan employed so Wonwoo could leave the parties earlier.

“I remember, Jeonghan, thank you,” he said dismissively.

Jeonghan replied crooking an eyebrow but left with another polite nod and no other word.

“Do you need to leave?” Junhui asked. His face was unreadable.

“No,” Wonwoo replied honestly. He wouldn’t lie to Junhui. “This is usually my outing to leave parties. But he usually approaches me some hours earlier than that.”

Junhui smiled satisfied.

“So I should feel honored,” he teased. Wonwoo didn’t reply, sipping his drink. “You don’t like parties?”

“Hum… not the ones I’m invited for?” Wonwoo tried to explain. Junhui chuckled.

“You prefer to be alone, watching me on TV?” he teased again. “But now you can watch me at the party, is that it?”

Wonwoo looked at him, seriously. Although Junhui was smiling at him, something felt off. Was he even more of a pro in Junhui’s smiles than he was before?

“No, it’s not,” he rested his glass on the counter and gazed deeply at Junhui. “I don’t feel I’m watching you. I don’t even feel I’m seeing Wen Junhui the actor. You know,” he eyed the room, gathering strength for what he was about to confess, “I always thought you were sincere, and funny, smart, with a golden heart,” Junhui blushed, his smile softening in the edges. “But you seem to be so much more, so much more real.”

Junhui was silent, frozen in place, just watching Wonwoo. The moment dragged itself enough to build some tension, and Wonwoo would certainly wake up at any moment. Before any of them could move, a slim, tall man appeared by Junhui’s side, slightly touching his upper arm.

“Jun, we have to go,” he whispered. Junhui looked at him, and the man reinforced his request with a knowing look that seemed to shake Junhui off his spell.

“Your Highness, this is my agent, Xu Minghao.”

“Your Highness,” Minghao bowed his head.

“Mr. Xu.”

“Thanks, Hao, I’ll be going in a second,” Junhui told the man, who moved away reluctantly.

“So you’re the one who actually has to go,” Wonwoo smiled sadly. He could feel reality’s claws closing around him already.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I wish I could stay more,” Junhui mirrored his smile.

“Maybe next party,” Wonwoo said, trying to hide his hope.

“Maybe,” Junhui agreed, eyes not leaving Wonwoo’s.

Before the tension could gain force again, Wonwoo cleared his throat.

“It was an honor, Mr. Wen. Thank you for your company this evening.”

“The honor was all mine, Your Highness. And please,” he paused, reaching his arm to press Wonwoo’s for just a second too long. “Please, call me Jun.” With one last smile that pierced Wonwoo’s heart and weakened his knees, Wen Junhui turned and left.

Wonwoo went to his chambers without saying a word to anyone else. He was certain he would never be awake again.

***

There was a huge difference between fantasizing over your celebrity crush before and after you have met them—and talked to them for hours—in real life. Wonwoo had had a feeling that things would change if he went to the party, but he didn’t expect _that_ . Not even in his wilder dreams, he had expected the need to talk himself down over believing Wen Junhui—( _Please, call me Jun_ , Wonwoo remembered, his insides melting all over again)—, _Jun_ had flirted with him.

Ok, his wilder dreams had been much worse, but his wilder- _realistic_ ones had been pretty tame.

With each passing day, his memories faded against his will, taking with them his certainties. But the warm feeling he had felt overcoming his heart during the hours he had spent with Jun remained. It had been easy before, imagining Jun without knowing his real character, the ever-present possibility Wonwoo had gotten him all wrong. Now, he knew at least a tip from what to expect, and the results were a messy tangled of mixed feelings.

Somedays, the flirting seemed to have been real, and he watched Jun on TV as if he was watching a new friend. Others, he felt just stupid—they had actually met now, Jun _knew_ him, and he hadn’t tried to contact him or anything. On these days, Wonwoo was certain the actor had already forgotten all about him. He would feel insignificant, and the worst part was that now he had nowhere to escape, no Wen Junhui on TV to warm his heart, since he was the main cause of Wonwoo’s troubles.

Despite all the darkness that sometimes took over him, he was determined to do his best to see Jun again. He had been paying attention to all topics related to parties and events, and even had casually asked Jeonghan about them. Wonwoo didn’t deceive him—Jeonghan had smirked, and gotten Wonwoo an invitation the next day, saying with a wink, “He _will be there, Your Highness._ ” (Wonwoo pretended he didn’t understand. Jeonghan only laughed at him.)

Although this time the party wasn’t at the palace, it had all been pretty much the same. Wonwoo had put up a nice suit and discreetly searched the room looking for Jun. This time, however, he got bolder and didn’t wait long to talk to him—as soon as an opportunity arose, he didn’t hesitate and made his way to him once more.

"Oh, I see now!" Junhui said as soon as Wonwoo was in front of him. "Yeah, Minghao is right, we can't talk tonight." 

Wonwoo blinked in surprise, feeling all his expectations cracking into shambles. 

"Why? Have I offended you somehow?" 

To Wonwoo's increasing confusion, Junhui giggled in response. 

"No, of course not!" he dismissed. "Let me explain to you," he sipped his cocktail in preparation. "I'm sure you remember from last time how surprised I was at how beautiful you are." 

"Surprised? I wouldn't say—" 

"And I couldn't stop to think about your face, you know? I kind of missed it," Junhui admitted shyly. Wonwoo blushed. "So, naturally, I searched for your pictures. Of course, there are a ton of them online, but no matter how much I tried, I couldn't find _your_ face. I mean, it was _your_ face, obviously, but it wasn't the one I remembered, the one I missed. And here I was thinking I got so tangled around you my mind was playing tricks on me. But no, here is _your_ face."

Wonwoo was certain he had paid attention to every word of Junhui's explanation, but it didn't make any sense. 

"I… don't follow," he admitted, confused. 

Junhui giggled at him again. 

"You're smiling." 

Wonwoo tried to smoothen his muscles immediately. He always worked very hard to keep his emotions in check, his face impenetrable to not give the press any sort of ammunition against him. He rechecked his features and there it was, his cheek muscles were tensed, an undesired smile on his lips. He tried to smooth it off again, but as soon as he looked at Jun, the muscles betrayed him. He looked at Jun in horror. 

"Just as I suspected," Jun raised his glass at him. "You can't resist smiling at me." 

Wonwoo stared at him for a minute before trying to recover and dismiss the possibility with his hand. His heart was pounding over his true feelings being discovered—it was like Jun was opening Wonwoo’s safe and finding all his photocard collection. 

"Right there! Even when you manage to hide it, the bright never leaves your eyes! I searched for it in pictures and even videos, but found nothing! And here it is. I thought I had made it up, but I knew I couldn't. You smiled the entire night while we talked last time, I couldn't have made that up."

Wonwoo was completely shocked by finding out the barriers he had carefully built throughout the years weren't bulletproof. However, if there was one person destined to crack them, it was Wen Junhui. Failing to deny what his own eyes could prove, Wonwoo tried to change the subject. 

"And is my smile so repugnant you can't talk to me tonight?" 

"What? Oh, no!" Jun waved his hand and shook his head. "Your smile is _beautiful_ , you must know that!" He didn't believe Wonwoo’s words. "Well, it is indeed one of the reasons. You see," he turned to the room beyond them, where most of the people were gathered. "This is the kind of party in which the press is present. Minghao, my agent, told me that especially because you and I talked for hours in the last one. He said the press would obviously pick our ‘ _vibes,_ ’ as he called it," Jun grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Even though I said he was exaggerating, he advised me to not talk to you for more than twenty minutes. Now I have to agree with him." 

Wonwoo had completely forgotten the press would be present that night—he had been too busy thinking about meeting Jun again. Slowly, the gears were turning and he understood what Jun meant. 

"Is my smile that obvious? Do you really think they would notice?"

"Oh, Prince Wonwoo," Jun said, tilting his head at him. "Your smile tormented me for days, and I'm pretty sure _they_ ," he pointed his thumb at the crowd, where the press should be spread, "would definitely notice. As I told you, your smile is pretty rare," he concluded with a soft smile. They were silent for a second, Jun's ceasing of mocking him weighting the force between their gaze. Wonwoo had been embarrassed by his own display of emotions, but in the end, he wasn't the one admitting to _missing_ Wonwoo’s smile. 

"I wish your agent wasn't right," Wonwoo confessed seriously, not tearing away his gaze. 

"Me too," Jun met his unmoving staring.

“I hope I have more opportunities to show you my smile,” Wonwoo said shamelessly. He had spent so many days wondering whether the flirting had been a trick of his mind that recklessness had no rights over him now.

Jun held his breath for a second. He didn’t look much collected at the moment. Wonwoo smirked, realizing he had cracked him.

“I—I’ll be looking forward to it,” he breathed out, a light blush on his cheeks. He tore his gaze from Wonwoo’s. “I think it’s best if I go now,” he admitted.

And Wonwoo understood. On his behalf, if Jun stayed that close from him, flirting so shamelessly, for one more minute, Wonwoo wouldn’t be able to hold himself. The way Jun swallowed nervously told him he wasn’t alone.

“See you next time, Jun,” Wonwoo’s voice came up hoarser than he expected.

Looking at him again, Jun bit his lower lip, grinning.

“See you too, Your Highness.”

A second before Jun started turning to move away from him, Wonwoo called. Jun stopped in motion, expectantly.

“Call me Wonwoo. Next time,” he gambled.

Jun gave him a soft smile and nodded.

They exchanged glances for the rest of the night. Wonwoo didn’t even care he had to endure small talk with people he didn’t even know—Jun had been engaged in several conversations, but his gaze always returned to find Wonwoo’s. It was the weirdest thing, to feel this happy.

He was certain the shine was back on his eyes, betraying him. Wonwoo didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brazilian soap operas that inspired the ones mentioned in this chapter:  
> Avenida Brasil = Seoul Avenue  
> A Próxima Vítima = The Next Target  
> Dança Comigo = Dance With Me
> 
> Thanks for reading! As usual, if you liked this first chapter, please let me know by leaving kudos or commenting. You can also reach me at [twitter](https://twitter.com/keepcaratin) or leave me a [CC](https://curiouscat.me/keepcaratin)!  
> Next update will most likely be in two weeks, but you can check my other fics in my [profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunettelovegood/profile) to see if there is anything else you like while waiting :)


	3. Let Me Hear You Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wonwoo has a surprise guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks for my beta for all the support.  
> When I asked her if I wasn't projecting too much, she just said "What's fanfiction if not projecting? What's writing, if not projecting?"  
> Your wisdom always saves my dumb brain, dear P <3

Although Jeonghan had been stunned by Wonwoo’s will to continue to attend parties, he still performed his duties diligently. Within the two weeks that followed alone, Wonwoo had been in four parties, beating all his past records. That hadn’t gone unnoticed by his family—well, by Bohyuk at least.

“Are you trying to get laid?” he teased Wonwoo right before he left for his second party that week.

_Maybe?_

“Don’t be dense,” Wonwoo dismissed. 

“Are you trying to get a boyfriend then?” Bohyuk pressed harder, smirking greatly.

“I wish,” was Wonwoo’s reply, maybe with a hint of bitterness.

His brother gave him a comforting look and didn’t ask again.

The question, however, took roots somewhere on Wonwoo’s mind. He didn’t know what he expected to come up from the intense glaring across ballrooms he and Jun had been exchanging. They still hadn’t got the chance to talk for long again, and their brief conversations usually revolved around Wonwoo’s thoughts over _Seoul Avenue_ last episode.

Even if Jun was into men—there were no public recordings of him ever dating—, neither’s life allowed them to be together. Wonwoo because his family believed that he needed to _strengthen the bloodline_. It didn’t matter that as soon as his brother had kids, he would be only the fourth in line to the throne, and would be sacrificing his life for literally nothing. Jun because, well, as far as Wonwoo understood, he had to keep the illusion to be available for his fans. Both logics seemed outdated and terribly unfair, to say the least, but Wonwoo knew too well fairness wasn’t part of reality.

All things considered, he didn’t care to spend his whole life just staring, if Jun was staring back at him.

It was unfortunate they didn’t have many opportunities to meet aside from parties. This was very inconvenient for Wonwoo, and his way to cope was to rewatch his favorite episodes of Jun’s dramas during the week. He didn’t stare back when Wonwoo was watching him on TV, obviously, but those moments still had a great effect on him, although there were new twists. His heart still got all warm, however in a different way now—like he and Jun had some sort of secret the world wasn’t aware. Wonwoo felt special, and he didn’t feel stupid about it most of the time.

Sometimes he wondered whether Jun thought about him during the week as well. Maybe he was too busy on set and had no time to spare thinking about certain princes. Unfortunately, Wonwoo had enough free time to overthink about the other. There hadn’t been many crown engagements lately, and the ones Wonwoo was requested to attend sometimes weren’t too bad. In fact, that morning he had attended one of his favorites—or the only favorite—royal activities he truly enjoyed: reading for kids in the school.

He loved everything about it, especially the fact he could choose the book he would be reading (upon final approval of Jeonghan, but still). He loved the hour in which he could lose himself, sometimes in the story, sometimes in the attentive, unblinking eyes of the children. It gave him the power to almost completely shield out the press, the real reason for his presence there (in the eyes of the crown). 

It was a shame he couldn’t do it more often, otherwise it would "lose its power", in Jeonghan's words. Wonwoo did his best to enjoy it when it happened.

In the afternoon, he was still under the magical effects of the morning reading, and had no commitments for the rest of the day—until seven, of course. It was a Thursday after all. 

To get in the Jun vibe, Wonwoo decided to spend the afternoon reorganizing his photocard collection. He changed clothes and got comfortable in sweatpants and a simple t-shirt and proceeded to unlock his safe. He took everything out and spread it on his bed, the special edition signed photocards, bookmarks, Polaroids, drama DVDs, Jun's calendar. Everything. It was rare he had so much time on his hands, and even more difficult to have the opportunity to actually contemplate his collection. It was a pity, really, that he couldn't display everything around his chambers. Sometimes he just looked around and pretended to imagine where he would display each item if he could, if he were really the only one to access his private space. He usually got a little sad, at the end. 

But not today. Today was just for organization purposes. Wonwoo had bought a new cardholder (fan-made with Jun's cat drawings all over the cover), and was planning on rearranging his collection. Sitting cross-legged, he contemplated all Juns spread over his bed thinking on what the best approach would be. A special edition one, from when Jun was about twenty, caught his eye. It was from _Vamp_ , his last Chinese drama before coming to Korea. He was wearing leather pants and a leather jacket over a white t-shirt. His hair was a bit shorter nowadays. Wonwoo imagined if someday he would have the chance to see Jun in person wearing anything like that. 

He sighed. 

It was best that he didn't. For both of them. The cruel reality was that Jun would only ever be on Wonwoo’s bed in the form of a photocard. Wonwoo couldn't let himself forget that, but maybe he could bring up _Vamp_ and Jun's character leather costume at the next party. 

Putting the photocard down, he decided to be wild and organize all photocards _by color_. Because why not?

He was just beginning his sorting when something unthinkable happened: in the other room, beyond Wonwoo’s bedroom, someone opened the door of his chambers. Without knocking or announcing themselves. 

Leaving everything behind, Wonwoo rushed to the other room, to meet his intruder and prevent them from entering his bedroom, discovering his beloved, secret collection. He was ready to reprimand whoever had dared to do such a thing along with ruin his good spirits and the children's magic, cursing the damn lack of privacy in which his life was defined upon, but what he encountered left him speechless. 

Wen Junhui was standing by his door, a plate of cake in his right hand. He was dressed sharply, but wasn't wearing a suit this time (nor any leather item, (un)fortunately). There he was, grey pants and a lovely oversized light-colored shirt, cheeks blushing and expectant eyes looking at Wonwoo. 

The door closed behind them and a moment of silence followed. Wonwoo was completely petrified, unsure it was all real or he was hallucinating. How long had he been looking at Jun’s pictures? Was his brain compromised? Fortunately, Jun unfroze from his own mortification and broke the silence.

“H-hi, Wonwoo!” he greeted, waving his free hand. Why would Wonwoo summon an imaginary Jun and a cake? Was he hungry? “I thought you would be at the tea party,” Jun provided, raising the cake in the air. Wonwoo stepped aside to let him in and closed the door.

“Tea party?” If only Wonwoo had read _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ for the kids that morning, this nonsense would actually have some meaning.

“Yes, your aunt, I think, invited me to a tea party? I thought you would be there, but it's just her Go-Stop club.”

Wonwoo stared at him, brain absorbing the new information. Wen Junhui had been in the palace without Wonwoo’s knowledge. Wen Junhui had been downstairs for who knows how long and Wonwoo _wasn’t there_.

“You were having tea with my aunt?”

“Well, technically, I still am. I just, hum, scaped quickly.”

Then Wonwoo remembered someone had entered his chambers without knocking.

“How did you get here? How did you pass the guards?” he asked incredulously.

Jun was at least taken aback by the question.

“They let me pass. They even showed me the way when I asked,” he explained

Oh, Wonwoo would have a serious conversation with Jihoon and Soonyoung. But not now.

“They showed you the way to my chambers?”

Jun chuckled.

“Is that what you call your bedroom?” he teased.

Wonwoo gave him a crooked smile. “It’s bigger than a regular bedroom. This is just the leaving room,” he waved his hand around the room. Jun looked at his surroundings intrigued, until his eyes laid on Wonwoo’s bedroom door, which was wide open. “But don’t change the subject. Were you looking for me?” he acted quickly.

“Yes, I told you, I thought you would be at the tea party,” he shook the cake in midair again. “That’s why I accepted the invitation. Well, and because the food here is _really_ good. Seriously, you have to try this cake. That’s half the reason I came looking for you.”

That was definitely too much information for Wonwoo’s brain to process. Jun was reaching out the hand holding the cake, so Wonwoo took it. It was strawberry.

“I don’t even know how to begin,” he smirked, pleased to be the one teasing this time. “First you accept an invitation just to see me, then you run away from it to offer me cake _at my own house_?” He took a bite, savoring the taste and Jun’s blushing.

“I’m sorry, I thought—,” he swallowed. “I should leave.”

“Hey, you’re already here. Besides, you breached the Royal Guards’ security—

“They showed me the way!”

“—so you should at least stay a bit longer,” Wonwoo tried to sound casual. He was finally starting to truly comprehend that _Wen Junhui was in his private living room_. “And this is delicious. People don’t usually bring me cake, you know? Thanks.”

Jun bit his lip and nodded, still a bit shy.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said, watching Wonwoo eat the cake. He was silent for some seconds until the awkward moment had passed. Then, he proceeded to analyze the room while Wonwoo ate.

“So this is where you watch my dramas?” Jun asked, hand caressing the couch’s fabric while he circled it.

“Yes,” Wonwoo confirmed.

“And you will be here tonight?” Jun seated on Wonwoo’s couch.

“Yes,” Wonwoo said again. A thought crossed his mind, and he was about to pursue it, to actually invite Jun to watch his own drama that night with Wonwoo when— 

“I’ll be on a night recording by the time the episode airs tonight,” Jun said, examining the fabric embroidering. Then, he smiled at Wonwoo, “But I’ll be thinking about you, watching it right here.”

Wonwoo almost choked on the last bite of cake, but he managed to control it in time. Suddenly he was very aware that it was the first time they were completely alone. He was feeling generally very exposed, without fancy clothes and a crowd of strangers to camouflage himself. Wearing only a t-shirt and sweatpants, in the environment Wonwoo had most privacy, Jun was a layer away from knowing him completely.

“I’ll be thinking about you as well. You working on set, I mean,” he replied, hesitantly. It sounded almost too awkwardly polite, but Wonwoo was already having a hard time controlling his incessant beating heart to provide a more suitable answer.

Jun bit his lower lip and smiled shyly down at the couch again. Although the tease was still present, he seemed way more timid than at the parties. Wonwoo thought maybe the weight of their current privacy was on his shoulders as well.

Breaking the spell, Jun looked at Wonwoo’s bedroom door and in a fast second, marched towards it without a word. Too slow to process what was happening, Wonwoo just watched him, only noticing what Jun would find there when the other had already crossed the threshold. Quickly, he rested the now empty plate on a side table and followed Jun to try to control the inevitable damage.

Wonwoo found him standing in front of his own bed, staring open-mouthed at Wonwoo’s photocard collection. He tried to move and put everything away, but Jun held his arm, stopping him.

“So you really are a _fan_ ,” he concluded.

Wonwoo didn’t know what to reply to this. He thought they had established this already, but apparently Jun hadn’t comprehended how much of a fan Wonwoo actually was. Was it too weird, to have a bunch of paper with Jun’s face on it? Treasuring it? Wonwoo wanted to disappear.

“Oh, this is really rare, isn’t it?” Jun approached the bed and seized a photocard. It was one of the Chinese ones, from the beginning of his career.

“Hum…” Wonwoo came closer to Jun cautiously. “Yeah, this one was particularly hard to get.”

“I don’t even have half of these,” he admitted, smiling. “What else do you have?” He looked around, searching for other memorabilia showcasing his own face. Founding nothing among the shelves stocked with books, his eyes landed on the safe box, whose door was wide open. “Oh.”

Jun didn’t reach over it, maybe already guessing its purpose. Instead, he turned to face Wonwoo, a question in his eyes combined with a hint of hurt.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed,” Wonwoo rushed to explain. “Is that—” How would he explain his deepest fear easily like that? He had never spoken it out loud, to anyone. “My life has been pretty much a public matter since before I was born, you know? At least this way there’s a part of it that’s my own.”

Jun gave him a sympathetic smile.

“And you didn’t sign up to any of that,” he patted Wonwoo’s shoulder briefly. “I get it. It’s tough. Even more if you don’t choose it.”

Perhaps he sensed this was already considered oversharing by Wonwoo’s standards and, to change the subject, kept looking at his surroundings. Wonwoo’s brain couldn’t focus on any other potential merch material he had laying around—Jun was so close, too close, Wonwoo could count the constellation of moles on his face, see them for real and not under any layer of makeup. His eyes couldn’t divert from the one right above Jun’s upper lip, and he felt such a pull towards it, maybe he was even closer—

Suddenly, Jun’s eyes found something and he moved, leaving Wonwoo kind of hanging midair. It took Wonwoo some seconds to realize what he had almost done. He always knew Wen Junhui was his Achille’s heel, but he didn’t expect to fall under a spell of some sort in his presence. Maybe he shouldn’t allow himself to get closer to Jun for now, when they were alone in his bedroom.

_Oh, god, they were alone in his bedroom._

When Wonwoo came back into his senses, he found Jun writing something on his desk. The scene was so out of ordinary, like a piece of a dream, it took him some seconds to remember he had placed his Wen Junhui calendar on the desk, to see what it would be like if he could actually use it. He had all intention to return it to his safe along with everything else as soon as he had finished the new sorting, but right now, it was in the hands of Wen Junhui. It was too late to hide it, and Wonwoo assessed it was safer for him to maybe put a little distance between them, just to get his brain enough time to receive oxygen again.

“Oh, I really like the July picture,” Jun commented, resting the pen on the desk and holding the calendar by his eyes.

“Me too,” Wonwoo agreed, still frozen in place. It was nice that his favorite one was on his birthday month. Apprehensive, he watched Jun place the calendar exactly where it was, carefully. Then, he stood up and approached the bed again, eyes on the photocards.

“This photocard holder was done by the same fansite as the calendar, right?” he inquired, taking the holder in hands and considering all his own cat drawings.

“Yes,” Wonwoo confirmed, voice weak. Trying to regain some confidence, he cleared his throat and added, “They are very cute.”

“Thanks!” Jun grinned at him. “I really love cats. I want to get one when I have more time to be at home more often. Right now I’d just worry about him being alone,” he pouted in conclusion.

“I like cats too,” Wonwoo confessed. “But apparently it’s not royal-ly to have cats wandering around a palace,” he grimaced. “Honestly, I think it is just that my grandmother is a dog person. I love her dogs, but, you know…”

“I know,” Jun didn’t hesitate to assure him, holding his gaze firm and providing a soft, understanding smile. “But one day we’ll get there.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure about that. Truth was he had no idea when—or if—the crown would deem acceptable for him to leave the palace and live by his own. Making plans was not something he had been taught to be part of his duties.

His face probably betrayed him, as Jun frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“Your face. You just went somewhere dark. We’re talking about cats. That’s not supposed to happen when cats are the topic,” Jun explained.

“Oh,” Wonwoo avoided his gaze, a little embarrassed. “It’s just that, hum, there are some plans that are more difficult for members of the crown to make.”

Jun was confused. He could understand being careful publicly, but apparently he had known a bit more of privacy and freedom than Wonwoo.

“Like having cats?”

“Yes.”

Jun frowned at him in silence. His stare was curious like Wonwoo was a mystery he wanted to unveil. Wonwoo dropped his gaze. Usually, when things took a turn to make him remember all the decisions he hadn't been allowed to make, when the what if's grew heavier on his mind, he didn't take out his Jun stuff nor watched anything Jun related. These topics were too dark to mix with Jun. Maybe he was conditioned to separate both, and that's why he felt so awkward now. 

"I understand a little bit," Jun said, breaking the silence and calling Wonwoo’s attention back to him patting his forearm. The touch lingered when he added, "I can't be all that I'm."

His gaze pierced Wonwoo’s, like he was trying to convey something specific, but Wonwoo wasn't sure. The whole afternoon had been intense, an imminent heart attack threat per minute, and Wonwoo couldn't dare to think he had understood Jun's words. 

He held the gaze in reply. Jun was the first to break eye contact, clearing his throat and stepping backward.

“I should get back soon. They must have noticed my absence by now,” he said shyly, still not meeting Wonwoo’s eyes.

“I wish you could stay more,” Wonwoo confessed. He didn’t know if he was getting bold or whether his mouth had gone wild.

“Me too,” Jun replied, quickly glimpsing at him. Wonwoo realized he was blushing. “In fact, I think it’s time for me to leave entirely. I have to be on set soon.”

“Oh, I see.” Wonwoo was actually relieved. He didn’t know how he would stay put and not crash his aunt tea party knowing Jun was downstairs.

Jun pointed awkwardly towards Wonwoo’s living room, an atmosphere which followed them until they got by the door. But he didn’t move to open it. Instead, he fidgeted for a moment before inhaling deeply and looking at Wonwoo again.

“I’m glad I invaded your _bedroom_. I hope you didn’t think it was rude of me.”

“No, no! I enjoyed the cake. Maybe if it had been anyone else, but—” he stopped when the meaning of his words caught up with his brain.

Jun bit his lower lip, smiling.

“It was a really good cake.”

“Yes! Really good cake.”

They smiled at each other and then laughed of their own silliness.

“Thanks for making me company,” Jun said softly, after recovering.

“I can say the same.”

When Jun moved, Wonwoo thought that was the end of it, he would open the door and leave his chambers. However, Jun didn’t move towards the exit—he advanced in Wonwoo’s direction. Wonwoo was so shocked he couldn’t react, only register Jun was now less than an inch from his face, closer than before. Dangerously close. He hesitated for a second, then Wonwoo felt Jun’s lips touching the corner of Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo held his breath. His legs had gotten weak.

Jun stepped away from him. His cheeks were blushing, but his eyes were bright.

“I—I hope you reach me soon,” he said, then opened the door and left.

It took several seconds for Wonwoo’s body to move again. When it did, he realized his brain was replaying Jun’s last words inside his mind, like he had missed something and his subconscious was sending him a warning. Slowly, his senses were getting back on track, and when enough of it was functioning again, he realized: the calendar.

He rushed to his bedroom and sat on his desk, grabbing the calendar and flipping through the months. Finally, he found something written on the month before, July—on top of Wonwoo’s birthday date was, indistinguishably, Wen Junhui’s signature, along with a cat drawing wearing a crown.

And below was a set of numbers that could only be Jun’s phone number.

***

Minutes after discovering the number, Wonwoo marched out of his chambers, determined like never before. He only stopped when he found who he was looking for.

“Jihoon, Soonyoung,” he called his personal bodyguards, who were guarding the East Wing entrance, as protocol. Not unhappy, he noticed both men stiff when hearing his call. Good. They weren’t sure, then. Wonwoo stood in front of them.

“Thank you,” he said. Neither agent could suppress their surprise in time. “And Jihoon, when Wen Junhui approaches as much as one kilometer radius of my surroundings, I want to know immediately. That’s an order.”

Soonyoung smirked. Jihoon grimaced to hold his face straight.

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This is probably the last we'll heavily see of fanboy!Wonwoo :( I promise I have better plans for him!  
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know :) It'll definitely motivate me to write more <3
> 
> Brazilian soap operas mentioned:  
> Vamp = Vamp (yes, that's the original name xD)
> 
> Follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/keepcaratin) to see lots of Wonhui and fic updates :)  
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> 
> My life is kind of crazy right now, but I think it's still possible to keep my original posting schedule, which is every two weeks :)


	4. Fallin Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Prince Wonwoo presents another place in the palace to actor Wen Junhui.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Sorry for delaying this update. I hope it was worth the wait :)
> 
> This story has been receiving lots of love, and I’m so so so grateful for it! The last weeks were a bit hard, and the kind words I got about it meant a lot <3 Thank you <3  
> Also, since the last update this fic has been gifted not one, but two fanarts!! I’m beyond honored and incredibly grateful.  
> Please check it out [Precious’](https://twitter.com/preshxvii) [art for chapter 2](https://twitter.com/preshxvii/status/1320962255047979008/photo/1)!  
> And [Sen’s](https://twitter.com/junniecafe) [art for chapter 3](https://twitter.com/junniecafe/status/1317542066503573504/photo/1)!
> 
> They both have amazing art in their profiles <3  
> Also, thanks Sen for your help with cat videos :)
> 
> And I’ll be forever thankful for my amazing beta <3 P, YOU’LL ROCK THIS NANOWRIMO!!!!!!!

__

_“I don’t understand,”_ Wen Junhui said on the screen, sobbing, lashes wet from his tears. _“I don’t understand why I can’t find true love.”_

 _“One day, Haejin, one day your love will find you,”_ the old lady comforted him, patting his arm.

 _“How can you be so sure, Granny? How can you tell?”_ Park Haejin asked, a measured despair in his eyes capable of shaking any heart.

 _“Because I see the love inside your heart,”_ Granny rested her hand over Wen Junhui’s heart. _“And this kind of love needs a ripened match. You need to ripen too, my child.”_

Park Haejin's cry intensified, and he buried his face on Granny’s shoulder. His sobs were muffled by the sad soundtrack, and soon the screen faded into the ending credits.

Wonwoo turned the TV off and sighed. He could understand Park Haejin’s frustration more than Granny’s words. The old lady who had raised Park Haejin in the dump was his only family. She refused to live with him, choosing to remain in her original home, so Park Haejin couldn’t have her by his side either. He visited her often, despite his busy schedule. And although Wonwoo understood that for plot reasons Park Haejin couldn’t find love just yet, the character’s frustration was contagious—he was a good person who deserved to be happy.

His phone rang, taking him away from his drama thoughts.

**Jun 8:01 PM**

_Did I make you cry? ;)_

Wonwoo smiled, vanishing his last tears with the back of his hand.

**You 8:02 PM**

Of course not.

**Jun 8:02 PM**

_Liar!!!_

Jun is typing…

_I hope this cat makes your night happier :)_

Following, he had sent a video of a cat and his human, the latter pretending the cat paw was a phone and pretended to dial on it. Then, he placed the cat’s paw over his own ear, so the cat could answer his own paw-phone. Wonwoo smiled, pleased. It was their thing already, to send all sorts of cats to each other. He and Jun had _their own thing_ , and Wonwoo couldn’t believe it, honestly.

**You 8:06 PM**

It’s cute, but watching you in _Seoul Avenue_ still makes me happier.

_You’re typing…_

And talking to you beats it all.

Wonwoo sent the last sentence holding his breath. Although they had been texting constantly since Jun had given him his number, Wonwoo still wasn’t used to _the possibilities of flirtation_. He still didn’t feel safe, like the press would hack his phone or something extremely unlikely of such nature, but he was getting better. This had been one of the boldest things he had said to Jun so far.

The actor replied with a blushing cat meme. Wonwoo was delighted.

It had been a week since Jun had been right there in his room, seating on the same couch Wonwoo was now curled on. His heart ached from missing him. Wonwoo didn’t understand—he had just seen Jun on TV, which usually was more than enough to ease the feeling for at least a couple of days. Now, he felt he was gravitating towards the lines on his phone rather than the Wen Junhui on TV he had just seen.

Wonwoo was very grateful for having a way to communicate with Jun now, although the first step hadn’t been smooth. After his serious talk with Jihoon and Soonyoung, he had returned to his chambers to face a new challenge: get courage and reach out to Jun.

Of course, first he had to actually believe the events of that afternoon had actually happened. To be honest, if Jun hadn’t signed his calendar and left his phone number there, Wonwoo would never be sure whether the whole thing hadn’t been only his imagination. But it was all there, and Jun had made sure it was up to Wonwoo to strengthen their—friendship? Wonwoo still didn’t know what they were doing (or didn’t dare to hope).

He began adding Jun to his contacts. Wonwoo had first typed ‘Wen Junhui,’ but then a sweet voice on his head echoed “ _Please, call me Jun,_ ” and that it was. Jun. The same man replicated in several photocards over his duvet was now among his phone contacts.

Wonwoo exhaled. Now what? Should he text him right now? He definitely wouldn’t call him, that was sure, but was it too soon to text? Jun probably had barely left the palace at this point. Did it sound desperate? Did Wonwoo care about games like that? Fuck no. Wonwoo was a prince, after all. Maybe he didn’t usually get what he wanted, but he surely made it clear he _wanted it_. And so he did it.

**You 5:26 PM**

Good luck with the recording tonight. JW

Wonwoo pressed send and paced his room for a while, uncertain he had done the right thing. What if Jun was already too busy to reply to him? What if he already regretted giving Wonwoo his number and would ghost him for eternity? Wonwoo shouldn’t have been greedy. This wouldn’t be happening if he were grateful for the little Jun time he somehow had managed to achieve. Wonwoo was an idiot and—

His phone buzzed.

He ran towards it, almost tripping on the rug on his bedroom floor. Turning the screen on, he saw Jun’s name on the top of the notification.

**Jun 5:29 PM**

_Thank you~~_

_Tell me what you think about tonight’s episode!! :D_

And Wonwoo had told him. They had been talking since then, their conversation never really cooling into a stop. It mostly regarded mundane topics, such as their daily schedules, and Jun usually would send him a picture of his lunch. Wonwoo didn’t remember how, exactly, but cats had slowly become a common topic, until one day they had grown into their own thing. 

They both flirted, occasionally, but neither had gone far. Wonwoo’s courage had been growing lately, a wild beast long suppressed within his chest roaring his way out. Yet, it was nothing in comparison to Jun’s boldness when he said goodbye to Wonwoo that day in his chambers. Sometimes Wonwoo still felt the corner of his lips on fire, right there where Jun’s lips had touched his.

They hadn’t seen each other since, and Wonwoo was conflicted whether this was good news (to allow time for the tension between them to chill) or bad (well, for the same reason). Jun had recordings and schedules for the whole weekend, and wouldn’t be able to attend any of the parties taking place then. Wonwoo had been sad when Jun told him, but was grateful to know it beforehand—the perspective of waiting for Jun two nights in a row for nothing, enduring people he wasn’t very fond of gave him the chills. Of course, if Jun hadn’t informed him, the Head of Royal Communications would have let him know anyway, as he did.

Yoon Jeonghan had approached Wonwoo that last Friday evening, a cautious expression in place.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted.

“Good evening, Jeonghan.”

“I’m afraid I bring unpleasant news,” he said, avoiding Wonwoo’s eyes.

“What happened?” Wonwoo asked, concerned. His mind had already conjured the most terrible scenarios, including Jun getting injured on set, when Wonwoo realized how unlikely it was that Jeonghan would bring him news related to Wen Junhui.

“It concerns Wen Junhui,” Wonwoo’s heart stopped, and he couldn’t suppress a gasp. “He is not available to attend any of the parties scheduled for this weekend, today’s included.”

Wonwoo had stared at him for a second before sighing in relief.

“Good god, you scared me for a second,” he let slip. Clearing his throat, he tried to save it. “Thank you for informing me, though I don’t understand why you judged this of my concern. Besides, I already know,” he was too delighted about knowing the inside information to refrain himself from adding the last part.

Jeonghan’s eyebrows had almost disappeared behind his hairline.

“If this information is not of your concern, how do you already know it?” he questioned, visibly hiding a smirk. “Does it mean you will be attending both parties?”

“Of course not,” Wonwoo smirked back. He thanked him before dismissing his services and head back to his chambers to rewatch his favorite Jun movie, _Harbor of Miracles_ , as he originally planned.

But this weekend was different. On Saturday afternoon, there would be another gathering in the palace, and Wen Junhui, common name on the crown guest list these days, had confirmed his attendance (this time, he made sure Wonwoo would attend as well before RSVP).

Wonwoo had promised to be there on time, waiting for Jun's arrival to guarantee not only that the actor wouldn’t have to face any of his relatives and such alone (Jun had insisted it wasn’t a problem. Wonwoo didn’t want to listen to it.) but also that he could enjoy every second of Jun’s presence in the palace (Jun had no complaints about this one). They had been texting so regularly, Wonwoo knew Jun had left home some minutes ago and would be crossing the ballroom doors at any moment now. Positioned close to the entrance, he kept glancing at the doors with the corner of his eyes, discreetly, and had been able to avoid unwelcome small talk so far. Wonwoo had just accepted a cold beverage just to have something do occupy his hands when, to his surprise, Jihoon approached him discreetly.

“The Hummingbird is close, Your Highness.”

“The what?” Wonwoo questioned, confused, but Jihoon left as suddenly as he arrived. Before he could understand it, a man appeared right in front of him--the Korean Prime Minister.

“Mr. Choi, how are you?” Wonwoo managed to greet the man in surprise.

“Please, Your Highness, we’re almost the same age. Must I ask you every time to call me Seungcheol?”

Wonwoo grinned. The Prime Minister was one of the few people who usually attended the crown events who Wonwoo truly enjoyed the company.

“I’ve asked you to call me Wonwoo as well, and still,” he counterpointed.

“Touché,” Seungcheol concealed, clinking his glass on Wonwoo’s.

“I see you couldn’t avoid the founder of your party receiving a distinction.”

“Oh, yeah, I own him too much after my election. There was no way I could avoid this one. Besides, it’s been some time since we last talked,” he smiled at Wonwoo fondly. Then, a different light found a place in his eyes, and his lips morphed into a smirk. “I’ve noticed you’ve been guarding the doors since you arrived here. Are you waiting for someone?” He asked with a crooked eyebrow.

Wonwoo took a long sip of his beverage to recollect himself.

“Of course not,” Wonwoo dismissed. “You know me, I like to be close to the doors to escape as soon as possible.”

“I see,” Seungcheol said, a smirk still set in place. “That may have been the rule in the past, but Jeonghan tells me your party-style has changed nowadays.”

“Jeonghan?” The intimacy surprised Wonwoo, his eyebrows gaining life and ruining his impassive face for a second.

“Mr. Yoon,” Seungcheol corrected himself, a light blush taking place on his cheeks. “We have been working closely, to align the government and the crown interests. And you know I really dislike formalities, especially when our ages are so close.”

Wonwoo eyed him suspiciously, but before he could probe more, a tall figure entered the room, his energy catching all Wonwoo’s attention. Wen Junhui had arrived.

Wonwoo had a vague idea that the Prime Minister had turned back towards the entrance to follow Wonwoo’s line of sight.

“Oh, I see. Mr. Yoon didn’t tell me everything, apparently.”

Maybe if it was anyone else, Wonwoo would have tried to disguise it better but he trusted Seungcheol at some level, despite the other being a politician. So he didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t eagerly waiting for Junhui to find him among the guests, and the moment it happened, Wonwoo completely forgot for a second that there was anyone else in the room with them. He did his best to memorize the transformation that took place on Jun’s expression, from anxiety to contentment—a grin spread on his lips, reaching his eyes and brightening them. Wonwoo’s face probably was a match, but he couldn’t care less at the moment.

He had missed Jun, his true presence, in a way he hadn’t realized until then.

“Hem, hem,” Seungcheol cleaned his throat. Wonwoo spared him a glance before looking back at Jun, afraid he would disappear somehow. “Wonwoo, people will notice,” he whispered.

Wonwoo blinked and looked at him again now that Jun was already heading their way.

“There is no press here today,” he assured the other.

Seungcheol tsked.

“I know, I’m talking about the other guests,” he motioned towards the center of the room with his head.

And he was right. There were already some heads turning in their direction, intrigued. Wonwoo realized how foolish it was to think Jun wouldn’t attract considerable attention wherever he went. He was certain he himself wouldn’t be able to not keep an eye on the actor in a situation like this.

“Hi!” Jun greeted him with a short wave.

“Hello, Jun,” Wonwoo barely refrained a smile. “Have you met the Prime Minister?”

Jun looked confused for a second as if he hadn’t realized there was someone else with Wonwoo.

“Oh, hello, sir, Prime Minister,” he bowed shyly.

“Hello, Mr. Wen. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Seungcheol gave Jun a warm smile, bowing as well. After an awkward silence, in which obviously Jun hadn’t recovered from the sudden introduction, the Prime Minister continued. “I understand you’re friends with Wonwoo?”

Jun glanced at Wonwoo before replying.

“I think it can be called that,” he smiled warmly.

“Interesting,” Seungcheol replied. “You must be quite a fellow, you know? Because Wonwoo here doesn’t have many friends.”

“Hey!” Wonwoo turned quickly at the politician, who only laughed at him.

“What I’m saying, Mr. Wen, is that Wonwoo values his friends very much, and he is always honest. You should treat this friendship with care.”

“You don’t have to worry, Prime Minister, I have all intention to do just so,” Jun reassured him, making Wonwoo blush.

“Well, I can tell you two have much to talk about,” Seungcheol said, refraining a smirk. “I’ll let you to it.”

He raised his glass in goodbye and left before any of them could say otherwise.

“So, you’re friends with the Prime Minister?” asked Jun, grabbing a beverage from a passing waiter.

“Yes, he’s nice. Youngest Prime Minister to ever rule, you know?”

“Oh, he looks young,” Jun commented. Although he was shyly avoiding looking at Wonwoo, the other could sense something else—could it be expectation? “So… you don’t have many friends?”

“Oh, that,” Wonwoo blushed uncomfortably. “I have _some_ friends, but it’s hard to find people with common interests in this circle,” he dismissed.

“Hum,” Jun was puzzled. “So the Prime Minister watches dramas too?”

“What?”

“Is that why you’re friends?”

“Oh, no!” Wonwoo laughed. “No, no, he doesn’t know about the dramas. No one knows,” Wonwoo pierced Jun’s eyes and added, “Only you.”

“I’ll take this honor,” Jun blushed, not looking at him again. “If not dramas, what do you have in common then?”

“Well,” Wonwoo considered. “I think it all started during his first dinner with granny. He had a, hum, an _accident_ with soy sauce and I helped him. He’s a good politician, but this fancy nonsense is not his forte. I’m not really good with people, as well. I think we bonded over it. We look at each other’s backs now, but he’s busy, and manages to avoid most of these events.”

“Oh, I don’t wanna keep you from talking to him, then!” Jun said hurriedly.

“I think he’s already updated about my life, I didn’t even have to say anything,” Wonwoo stared at Jun meaningfully.

“Oh? _Oh!_ ” he blushed in understanding again. “In this case, I’m glad he is a friend.”

“Indeed a friend, you see,” Wonwoo began, contradicted. He really thought they wouldn’t have to worry about this crap that day. “It took him one look at me when you arrived for him to advise me that _people would notice_.”

“He didn’t say _what_ they would notice?” Jun asked maliciously.

“No, he _didn’t_ ,” Wonwoo hit the other’s arm. “But he’s right. The press may not be here today, but everyone present has an eye on you.”

Jun sighed. “Good politicians have to be smart, I guess.”

“I guess, but you see the issue, right?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Jun admitted, all light leaving his features. “I don’t like it, though. I was really looking forward to talking to you.”

Wonwoo bit his lower lip, blushing. It was good that he couldn't move in any other capacity to not draw attention, otherwise… he didn’t know whether he could restrain himself. Jun’s almost-kiss was too present in his mind lately, and thinking of reasons to not follow his instincts had become harder. He inhaled, trying to compose himself, and, knowing his eyes must have been betraying his passive expression, he finally managed to say, “I really wanted to spend today with you too.”

“I wish we could just escape while no one was looking,” Jun pouted.

“Oh really? I thought you liked talking to your fans,” mocked Wonwoo.

“I do!” Jun argued indignantly. “But I’m a bit tired, and, well, I miss talking to you, it’s no fun just look at you across the room.”

Wonwoo grinned, avoiding his eyes. He couldn’t agree more, in every sense. The fact Jun had just stated he wanted to escape with him, that he missed him… Wonwoo’s walls cracked and finally collapsed.

“Do you really want to escape?”

“Wow, you look serious! Oh, _you’re serious!_ ” Jun hit his forearm. He quickly recovered from the surprise and added, “Do you think we can make it unnoticed?”

Wonwoo’s heart skipped a beat. This whole thing with Jun had had many turning points, but this one, oh, this one was like being at the edge of the roller coaster drop.

“I can guarantee no one will notice.”

For a long moment, they intensely stared at each other. Wonwoo was quite sure Jun was deciding if he wanted to experience the roller coaster drop or back off. When his lips curved in a slight smirk, Wonwoo knew what path he had chosen.

“If you can guarantee…”

They separated for a while, waiting for the perfect moment. Wonwoo knew exactly when it would happen, and he was glad it wouldn’t take long. He had been in enough distinction ceremonies to know their schedule by heart, and he knew the main honor was always given right in the beginning.

When everyone was called to gather around the center of the room, where his grandmother the Queen was ready to start the rituals, he found Jun’s eyes on the other side of the room and discretely gestured to the door to him. They silently left the gathering and met at the hall, where they were alone, except for the Royal Guard. Wonwoo noticed Jihoon exchanging a look with Soonyoung, but aside from that, no one moved.

“Come this way,” Wonwoo called Jun right away.

Jun followed him at a fast pace, as well as Jihoon and Soonyoung.

“The Petal and the Hummingbird are leaving the West Wing,” he heard Soonyoung report to the rest of the Royal Guard through the radio on his shirt cuffs. Considering Petal was his own codename, he finally understood who the hell was the Hummingbird. He snorted. It was so tacky it had to be Soonyoung’s idea.

Wonwoo crossed the West Wing, then the heart of the palace, to finally reach the East Wing entrance.

“I’m certain you’re familiar with the path so far,” Wonwoo teased, remembering Jun had certainly taken the same route to find Wonwoo’s chambers the week before.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wondering if you’re taking me to your bedroom,” Jun teased back. Wonwoo replied with a mischievous smirk.

He was not, unfortunately, taking Jun to his chambers.

They climbed the stairs leading to the royal family quarters, but instead of turning right, towards the area of the private bedrooms, Wonwoo took left. Instantly, his plans were clear to Jihoon.

“The Petal and the Hummingbird are going to the Queen’s Oasis”, he informed on the radio.

A couple more turns and hallways, and they arrived.

“Welcome to the Queen’s Private Garden, Jun,” he stepped aside to let the other exit to the huge balcony in which the garden was set. The garden was beautiful, but Wonwoo was already familiar with its wonders. He knew there was a lot to take in, from the fountain to the rose bushes to the redbud tree. It was a peaceful place where his grandmother sought refuge often. Fortunately, the place wasn’t as private as its name could infer, and the royal family was allowed to enter it. Wonwoo had never brought anyone there, but he was certain his grandmother wouldn’t bother—or find out. It was the perfect place to take Jun to escape a daylight event in the palace.

“This place is beautiful!” Jun said, amazed, still looking incredulously to his surroundings. Wonwoo joined him in the garden, while Jihoon and Soonyoung remained by the doors. “I love gardens and parks, but it has been some time since I could actually enjoy any. People tend to recognize me very easily.”

“You don’t say,” Wonwoo mocked sarcastically. To his delight, Jun's reply was to hit his forearm again.

“Seriously, if I had a garden like this at home, I would never leave it.”

There was a bench with no backrest nor armrest right below the redbud tree, and Jun sat there. Wonwoo approached him.

“We can stay here as long as you want,” he promised softly.

Jun smiled happily, laying down on the bench, his long legs taking root beyond the bench limits. Wonwoo crouched close to his head.

“You know,” Jun almost whispered. “One of the things I liked the most was to just lay down on a bench or even on the grass, right under a tree, and look up at the sky. There is something about the outline of the leaves against the blue sky and the clouds that brings me peace.”

Wonwoo watched Jun looking up, the shadows of the tree branches creating patterns over his tranquil face. He had never seen any pictures, videos, or such of Jun that transmitted so much serenity. Wonwoo wanted to stay in that moment—space and time—forever. He reached his hand to caress Jun’s fringe away from his forehead. Jun smiled in contentment, closing his eyes. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the rare calmness.

Wonwoo was glad to just watch him until a light breeze shook the redbud tree, the whisper of its flowers against the wind taking away any other sound. Some small petals had fallen around them, and the luckiest ones found Jun’s cheeks, resting there. Considering all that could have snapped Wonwoo’s restraint so far, from Jun’s flirting to him being extremely close to Wonwoo’s bed, to even kissing the corner of his mouth, it was quite unexpected that an innocent petal was responsible for breaking Wonwoo’s control.

It was so fascinating, the petals resting on Jun’s delicate features, as they belonged to his beauty.

Without a hint of doubt, Wonwoo inclined his head and kissed Jun’s lips. At first, he felt Jun tensing in surprise, but it was soon gone. Then he felt Jun’s lips pressing back on his, making him leveled up but not losing contact. Wonwoo felt the petals sliding down between both their cheeks when Jun seated up without breaking contact. His hands cupped Jun’s face blindly, and when he felt Jun’s fingers grabbing his shoulders, the kiss deepened. Their tongues entangled, and Wonwoo was certain heaven existed. Jun tasted of the sweetness of the early beverage, and the way his lips were pressing against Wonwoo’s mouth raised goosebumps over Wonwoo’s arms. He could stay there forever, under the redbud tree with Jun, and all signs indicated the other would wish the same until Jun parted their lips abruptly.

“I can’t!” he claimed, breathless and a bit spooky.

“Me neither,” Wonwoo replied, kissing him. Jun complied for some seconds before parting ways again.

“I really can’t, Wonwoo,” he held Wonwoo’s face now, to prevent him from adventuring another kiss. The sadness in his eyes traveled fast to Wonwoo’s heart.

“I really can’t either,” Wonwoo insisted, but didn’t move.

“I can’t risk my career now, my fans…” Jun began to explain, but Wonwoo stopped him pressing his fingers over his mouth--of duty, Wonwoo understood, so no other word needed to be said.

“We both have a million reasons why not to pursue this,” he reassured Jun despite the cracking starting on his heart. He took the other’s hands on his. “And I respect that you value them.”

Jun smiled sadly, but gratefully.

“Can we still be friends?” Wonwoo asked, happy his desperation wasn’t present in his voice.

“I don’t think I can go without it,” Jun smiled a bit less sad. With a final press on Wonwoo’s hands, he stood up. “I have to go home. I don’t think I can go back there.”

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo stood as well.

“Don’t be,” Jun said quickly, running a hand through his hair. Now Wonwoo could see how distraught he looked. “Please don’t be sorry.”

With a last look at Wonwoo, he left in a hurry.

For a while, Wonwoo watched the space where he had just disappeared from before seating on the bench again, resting his head on his hands. He wouldn’t go back to the party as well. He just wanted to dive deep into the blankets on his bed and don’t see the light for a long time.

A shade of pink caught his attention. Some petals of the redbud were close to his shoe on the floor. Wonwoo picked them up, putting them inside his pocket. Then, he went to his chambers refusing to add what he could have had with Jun to the pile of items his royalty kept from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3 I think Falling Flower will always be a source of inspiration to me.  
> Harbor of Miracles = Porto dos Milagres
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day! I’m a bit slow on replying to comments at the moment, but I’m getting there, I promise, and I always read all comments right away <3
> 
> I’ll do my best to keep updates every two weeks, but I’ll update on any delays on [twitter](https://twitter.com/keepcaratin)
> 
> [CC](https://curiouscat.me/keepcaratin)
> 
> you can find other fics in my [profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunettelovegood/works)


	5. 247

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wonwoo does his best to keep their friendship, but maybe Jun has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. November was not easy on me. I hope you guys like this chapter :)

Sunday was the worst day of Wonwoo’s life. Not only because of the damn hangover he had to suffer after drying the vodka from his private minibar on the night before but mostly because he didn’t know how to put back together the pieces of his heart. It sounded really overdramatic, even for his ears, but he didn’t know how to describe it differently. He had finally gathered the courage to act over something he really wanted, but nothing could have prepared him for the disappointment that followed. Wonwoo had never felt anything like it—to be fair, nor had he wanted anything so intensely.

His normal course of healing when he got upset was binge-watching Jun’s work. On Saturday night, Wonwoo had considered this solution sort of masochism. Sunday morning, however, brought him heartache mixed with missing, and worse than watching Jun on the screen would be texting him. So he surrendered to his urge, and carefully selected a drama in which there was no Jun kissing anyone. Everything had a limit, after all.

Uncharacteristically, Wonwoo had dismissed his engagements for the day (there weren’t many anyway) and forego having meals outside his chambers. Instead, he cocooned himself on his sofa, a good cup of tea in his hands, and let himself get lost over Jun’s acting.

He couldn’t avoid pouting the whole time, though.

At least, when night came, he was finally able to understand the whole turmoil inside his chest. All things considered, Wonwoo didn’t think his conversation with Jun would continue. Although he was pretty sure the kiss had been reciprocated, he was certain his boldness had ruined the blooming friendship he had come to treasure in the past weeks. Somehow, that was what hurt the most.

Fortunately, Wonwoo was a pessimist by nature, and he was, thankfully, utterly mistaken.

When he was getting ready to go to bed—basically only exchanging the sofa for his own bed—he got a message from Jun. His tone was shy, apologetic for leaving so early the night before. Wonwoo, after recovering from the shock, replied stunned, trying to assure Jun he was the one to blame, for being so forward.

**JUN 11:09 PM**

_“Let’s just call it even, then.”_

Wonwoo hadn’t been convinced, still feeling guilty—although not exactly sorry—but Jun didn’t wait for his reply and continued to send a bunch of cat videos he had discovered that day. He had buried the subject and not given Wonwoo much choice besides keeping their friendship. Defeated, and secretly pleased to have a chance to heal at least part of his sorrows, he embraced it easily.

And that was why they were once more sharing discreet looks across the hall of yet another party Wonwoo didn’t even know who was hosting anymore. Oddly, the nervousness and anxiety hadn’t gotten to him this time, probably because he had already done the bravest thing he could and had been rejected. Ok, sort of rejected, but still rejected.

So when Jun approached him later that night—probably tired of waiting for Wonwoo, who was now doing his best to give him enough space—Wonwoo felt relief wash over him. Jun's smile hadn’t changed, he still greeted Wonwoo with a hint of flirting and sassiness, and Wonwoo could feel in his bones they were still friends. He didn’t realize he feared losing it that much.

He did his best to hold his ground and don’t get enchanted by Jun’s beauty, to stick to how pleasant his company was, forget the burning of Jun’s mouth and tongue against his, and maybe, if he pretended for long, it would be enough to deceive himself that this was sufficient. Ultimately, Wonwoo discovered that after overcoming Jun’s beauty, sexiness, charming personality, his new weakness was the unavoidable pull to make Jun happy. So, when after some minutes of chatting Jun grimaced sadly after biting a finger food, Wonwoo knew his self-deceiving was about to collapse.

“What’s wrong?”

“Food here is terrible,” Jun complained. “Really, a disgrace. Something terrible must have happened in the kitchen tonight.”

After some weeks of talking and getting to know each other, Wonwoo had gathered enough information to know how important food was to Jun, as well as how much bothered by it he must be to actually complain. When Jun took another bite and grimaced again, the words spilled out of Wonwoo’s mouth and he wasn’t even sorry.

“I know a place,” he said dumbly.

“A place?” Jun frowned.

“I mean, I know a good place to eat. Like, right now.”

Jun stared at him for some seconds, saying nothing. _He’s probably remembering what happened the last time I invited him to sneak out of a party_ , Wonwoo kicked himself internally.

“Are you trying to get me to the palace again? Because I love the food there, but—”

“No, no. Not the palace. Another place. A restaurant.”

Jun’s face fell.

“I don’t think it’s wise for us to go to a resta—”

“Oh, no! Not like that,” Wonwoo rushed to explain. “Go to a restaurant _discreetly_.”

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” Jun finally understood. It was pretty common for certain restaurants to have reserved areas for high-profile customers, away from the public eye.

As a rule, no one from the crown was advised to be seen in a restaurant—a ridiculous, pompous rule, in Wonwoo’s opinion—, but it didn’t mean some didn’t find ways to enjoy it. Wonwoo was definitely one of them. He hoped the fact he wasn’t alone, this time, wouldn’t draw any undesired attention.

“So, what do you think?”

One last, disgusted grimace at his sad-looking shrimp was all it took for Jun to decide.

“Please take me out of here.”

Wonwoo smirked, pleased. He instructed Jun to wait fifteen minutes and go find him in his car and left the room without sparing a glance at anyone else. Thrilled, his heart pounded fast within his chest, but his expression said nothing. Jihoon and Soonyoung followed him at once, and Wonwoo updated them about the change of plans.

Inside his car, parked right outside the building entrance, the waiting time was excruciating. Unfortunately, fifteen minutes is enough time for your brain to summon all the paths that can lead to disaster, from Jun changing his mind or being intersected by a fan to a hidden paparazzi catching them together somehow. 

“Did you arrange it with the restaurant?” Wonwoo asked Soonyoung, more to help pass the time and distract his mind than anything else.

“Everything is arranged, Your Highness,” Soonyoung replied, turning from the passenger seat to smirk at him. If he wasn’t so nervous, Wonwoo would be annoyed. “You can stop shaking your leg now, Your Highness. The Hummingbird is coming.”

“Who came up with this codename, anyway?” Wonwoo tried to avert the subject, stilling his leg.

Before he got a reply, the backseat door opened and Jun entered, seating next to Wonwoo and vanishing all pessimistic thoughts from his mind.

“All right,” he greeted getting comfortable. “Where are we heading?”

It was surreal, to have Jun in the car with him. He had so many memories on that vehicle, most of it not so pleasant trips, that he couldn’t suppress a fond smile—the impact of Jun’s presence in his daily life was absolutely incredible. The power he had to easily transform everything Wonwoo had always connected to _duty_ into _pleasure_ didn’t cease to surprise him.

“You will see,” he replied mysteriously, trying to convert the smile into a smirk, at the same time as Jihoon started the car.

“Oh, really? You are not telling me?” Jun returned the smirk. “Hum. I have other means to find out,” he ignored Wonwoo’s confused expression and leaned on towards Soonyoung’s seat. “Hi! I’m Wen Junhui. We keep seeing each other, since that day when you gave me directions in the palace—,” (Soonyoung cleared his throat nervously, not turning to face Jun), “and the other day in the garden. I don’t think we have been introduced yet.”

Soonyoung remained silent, so Wonwoo made the honors.

“These are agents Lee and Kwon, my personal bodyguards.”

“Oh really?” Jun was amused by the news. “So you must know everything about Wonwoo’s life, even what he manages to hide from the press!” he concluded, delighted. Neither Jihoon nor Soonyoung replied, but Wonwoo saw the latter glancing at Jihoon. He was an introvert, but only at some level, and when faced with someone friendly enough—which was Jun’s case—he could barely refrain himself from joining the conversation. On the other hand, his training instructed him to remain focused on the road ahead, and no distractions were allowed. But Jun wouldn’t be defeated so easily. “Tell me, agent Kwon, does Your Highness date a lot?”

Soonyoung snorted and couldn’t suppress a laugh. Wonwoo, blushing, caught even Jihoon biting his lips, fighting to remain impassive. Jun smiled at Wonwoo, teasingly.

“Is this a place he takes his lovers often?” Jun pressed, his voice full of mischief.

‘Lovers’ finally did the trick, and Soonyoung, giving up from his position _too quickly_ , in Wonwoo’s opinion, turned back completely to reply.

“Let me tell you the restaurant could not believe I was asking for a reservation for _two_ , because he always goes there by him—”

“Kwon Soonyoung,” Wonwoo called in the calmest, most cold, and commanding voice he could gather, but a small tremble still escaped. It worked instantly, though, for Soonyoung turned, sitting straight in his seat, face returning to the impassiveness of his training.

However, Soonyoung wasn’t the only one affected by it. When Wonwoo looked at Jun, he encountered the other already staring at him, mouth agape and eyes round, a light blush on his cheeks.

“I remembered once being impressed by your voice,” Jun said almost in a whisper. “But this _dominance_... is... quite new.”

Wonwoo’s mouth went dry, and he couldn’t leave Jun’s intense gaze. No one had ever said anything like this to him, and ‘dominant’ wasn’t something he had ever considered himself to be. To be true, he hadn’t actually thought about it.

The things Jun made him think about…

“We’re here, Your Highness,” Jihoon announced, breaking the spell. Wonwoo cleared his throat and looked away. He busied himself getting out of the car and tried to recompose himself to face Jun again.

As usual, Jihoon had parked by the back entrance of the restaurant, a sort of dirty alley, almost dark and completely deserted. Soonyoung knocked on the closest door, which opened immediately.

Wonwoo waved for Jun to enter first then followed him, Jihoon and Soonyoung right after. A well-dressed lady, who Wonwoo knew to be the owner, greeted them and guided their path through a narrow hallway, until signing an entrance to the left.

It wasn’t a private room like some places offered—wood panel screens marked the boundaries of a small room with four tables or so, and you could still listen to all the restaurant’s life beyond the barriers. But no one could see them, definitely. Wonwoo and Jun took a seat on a table around the center, and Jihoon and Soonyoung took another one, closer to the walls.

“I trust them to still be on duty while eating, they’re really competent that way. And this is one of the rare situations in which if I don’t tell, no one will know,” Wonwoo explained after noticing Jun’s puzzled expression towards his bodyguards’ table.

“Oh, I wasn’t wondering about that,” Jun replied surprised. Then, leaning on the table towards Wonwoo, he whispered, “Are they together?”

Completely caught off guard, Wonwoo spilled all the water he had just sipped. Jihoon was by his side in a second.

“I’m not choking, thank you,” he signed for the other to return to his table. Turning back, he found Jun cleaning his own tears from laughing so hard. “Oh, so it was just a joke?”

Jun laughed even harder.

“No! It wasn’t, you’re so oblivious, it’s so funny!”

While Jun recovered, Wonwoo looked horrified at the other table, where both men innocently browsed the menu. Jihoon and Soonyoung were his bodyguards for around three years now—was he so self-absorbed to overlook something of that magnitude from the two people with whom he spent the most time daily?

“What made you say this?” he asked Jun, surprise painting his features.

“Oh, nothing, really, just my gut,” Jun dismissed waving his hand, the menu already conquering his attention. Wonwoo was torn to watch him engrossed in concentration, but his internal turmoil was gaining speed.

“Is it really nothing? Is this something I should have noticed?” he whispered urgently.

Catching the insecurity on his voice, Jun frowned and closed the menu.

“No, they’re really subtle,” he was still looking at Wonwoo without understanding.

“I don’t want to be a self-centered jerk prince that can’t even figure it out the people closest to him are actually dating or something,” Wonwoo confessed, worried.

“Hey,” Jun reached out to caress Wonwoo’s hand, his eyes concerned. “You’re none of this. I’ve never seen you be anything but kind and respectful. As you said, they are really good at their jobs, and I saw what made me wonder about this that day when I was trying to find your room at the palace. I wouldn’t have asked if I thought you didn’t know about it. It’s their thing after all.”

Wonwoo nodded, the words calming his distress a little. Jun gave him a soft smile, and their gaze lingered. Suddenly, the hand Jun hadn’t retrieved was burning over Wonwoo’s skin, and all he wanted was to turn his palm upwards and interlace their fingers. Maybe it would be ok, right? Friends hold hands sometimes, didn’t they? Wonwoo was seriously considering risking it when the owner approached their table—she insisted on handling Wonwoo’s orders personally—, and Jun’s hand was gone right away.

Wonwoo was about to order the dishes he knew Jun would like when fast Mandarin surprised his hearing—Jun was talking excitedly with the owner, ordering a series of dishes for both of them. Silly Wonwoo, taking Jun to a Chinese restaurant and assuming he would know better than a Chinese person. He postponed his own facepalming for later and focused on trying to understand the conversation.

“Spiciness doesn't have to be medium, Madam Cheng,” Wonwoo intervened when Jun finished ordering.

Jun raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

“Are you sure? I asked for a specific kind of chili pepper, spicier than most,” he warned.

“I’m sure,” Wonwoo smiled confidently.

Madam Cheng nodded and excused herself, leaving a bewildered Jun behind.

“How do you know I don’t like seafood?” Wonwoo inquired. Madam Cheng had suggested a seafood dish, but Jun had refused, explaining Wonwoo’s dislike.

“I did my homework,” Jun smirked. “You didn’t tell me you knew Mandarin.”

“Oh, so you didn’t do _all_ your homework,” Wonwoo teased, smiling. His cheek’s muscles were all tense—he didn’t remember to have ever grinned so much in one night. “Besides, I can barely understand it.”

“I’m sure you’re being modest,” Jun’s eyes gleamed in mischief. “But I’m dying to find out. About this and more.”

Wonwoo didn’t wait for a second to reply.

“Sounds better than homework,” his boldness was worth it, earning a light blush on Jun’s cheeks.

They were interrupted by Madame Cheng bringing their beverages. Wonwoo took the moment to recollect himself, unsure exactly what Jun’s intentions were. Had he regretted his decision to remain friends? Regardless of his intentions, Wonwoo wouldn’t insist on anything. He could return the flirting, rejoice in the electric staring Jun had been directing at him, but that was all. He had made his intentions clear, and it wasn’t his position anymore to take initiative. For all he knew, maybe Jun wanted nothing more than casual flirting, and Wonwoo was too far gone to believe this wasn't a good deal.

“So, you don’t exactly bring your dates here?” Jun asked, tone nonchalantly.

“Hum,” Wonwoo stalled. He was hopeful Jun would forget about it, but Soonyoung had done his damage. “I don’t date much.”

“Oh, really?” Jun seemed genuinely surprised. “And where do you and your friends go?”

Wonwoo cleared his throat, uncomfortable. A second ago, he was dreading the conversation would inevitably sail to his dating life, which was scarce and basically comprehended some secret, long over adventures in the company of Thailand’s prince, currently married to a lovely young woman. However, somehow, the subject of friendship twisted his stomach unpleasantly.

“I, hum, I haven’t had many last-long friends,” he replied, feeling his cheeks burning. “And even when my circles of friends were more active, I usually didn’t go out much with them, to clubs and such.”

“How so?”

Wonwoo waved a hand in front of himself, as if it was evident, a sad half-smile on his face.

“I have to fulfill my duty of not bringing any scandals to the royal family.”

“Oh, bulshit!” Jun exclaimed, surprising him. “We’re here, aren’t we?” Challenging, he added, “What’s the difference?”

 _That with you, I really want to,_ Wonwoo thought, but bit his tongue and didn’t reply. He sipped his tea and diverted the subject slightly.

“I think you must have noticed by now that I didn’t grow up enjoying much freedom,” his tone was candid, the playfulness that had surrounded their conversation, gone. Sensing the change in the atmosphere, Jun followed his lead and nodded to him to continue, attentive, and concerned with what he had to say. "I didn't always do the things I wanted to." 

Jun rested his chin on his hand, leaning on the table and frowning. 

"Do you have any regrets?" 

The question had an impact on Wonwoo. He felt his throat tightening but swallowed the forming knot to reply. 

"I think I, hum, I would have taken a different program in college." 

"Oh really?" Jun's eyes sparkled, his features opening up. "What did you graduate from?" 

"Economics," Wonwoo replied. He still couldn't avoid flinching when saying the word. "But I wanted to take Filmmaking." 

"Oh, that's so cool!" Jun exclaimed. "We could have worked together! What did you want to do?" 

"Directing," Wonwoo smiled, shyly on admitting it. 

"I would have loved having you directing me," Jun blurted spontaneously, his tone not teasing or mischievous, and the truth of his words caused Wonwoo to forget any innuendo. Jun realized how fast the words flew his mouth and tried to hide his embarrassment into a timid laugh. “That’s why you like dramas so much?”

“No,” Wonwoo smirked to his plate, still avoiding looking at Jun. “I like _your_ dramas because of _you_.” He glimpsed at the other and caught a satisfied sparkle in Jun’s eyes. “But I guess that’s what led me to find you. Maybe it has more to it, but I try not to think about it. It’s in the past now.”

“Of course not!” Jun’s outrage made Wonwoo jump. Madame Cheng approached their table bringing their order, and Jun waited for her to leave to continue. He proceeded, serving Wonwoo’s dish at the same time. “You could still do it. There is no age to start something new.”

“Jun—”

“I’m sure being accepted wouldn’t be an issue—you’re incredibly smart—”

“It’s not—”

“And Jihoon and Soonyoung can guarantee your safety—”

“Jun—”

“You can’t spend your whole life basing yourself on _what if’s_. You own yourself more than that.”

Wonwoo was struck by his words, by how much Jun had figured him out already. The knot previously swallowed threatened to come back. He took a bite of his food—spicy and delicious, as usual—, and only after both knot and food had gone down his throat, he spoke.

“The reason why I didn’t pursue a filmmaking career hasn’t changed. The crown doesn’t approve this line of work for its members, and there is nothing I could do about it. It’s not the kind of job I can hide completely under a pseudonym. Besides,” he added, a bit annoyed for being the only one reminiscing on desired paths not taken. “Do you think _you_ deserve to base your life on a what if?”

Jun’s eyes grew with the unexpected accusation. The tables turning had obviously caught him off guard, and he didn’t know how to react, only to stare at Wonwoo, incapable of saying anything. Wonwoo regretted his words immediately.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for,” he apologized. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m having a great night, and I hope you’re as well.” Then, feeling he should be as honest as possible, he said in almost a whisper, gaze down on their food. “I accept whatever you want to give me, and I won’t say a word about it anymore, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Jun smiled softly at him, his expression relaxing.

“I’m really surprised by how well you take these chilies, they’re really spicy,” he said. Wonwoo said nothing, and they just stared at each other, aware of their silent understanding.

They finished dinner exploring less dangerous subjects, like Jun’s character’s new love interest in _Seoul Avenue_ , and Jun’s love for all things spicy. He wasn’t satisfied with Wonwoo not knowing the specific names of the chili peppers he had tasted so far in life, and Wonwoo promised to pay more attention from now on.

The night went on too fast, and suddenly they were parked in front of Jun’s building.

“This is not the protocol to approach the Hummingbird nest, Your Highness. We need to be quick,” Jihoon warned.

“There is a protocol?” Jun was surprised.

“There is always a protocol,” Wonwoo said, softly taking Jun’s hand and caressing it. “Thanks for your company tonight.”

“Thank you for saving me from some terrible food,” Jun returned the smile. Wonwoo felt his fingers slightly touching his own hand. It barely had been any touch, but he felt electricity spreading through his whole body.

“Good night, Junnie,” the nickname he only used inside his head ventured to leave his lips.

Jun blushed and nipped his lower lip, avoiding looking at Wonwoo.

“Good night, Wonwoo,” he pressed Wonwoo’s hand for a second before letting go and exiting the car. Wonwoo watched him enter the building and sighed.

“To the palace, Your Highness?” Soonyoung asked.

“To the palace,” Wonwoo replied, his voice already tired from his unavoidable, dull routine.

***

The next morning, the gratitude for how Jun had improved the previous evening was still warm within Wonwoo’s chest. A quick research, a request to Jeonghan, and he had found the perfect way to be grateful.

**Junnie 10:17 AM**

_YOU SENT ME A THAI PEPPER TREE???_

**You 10:18 AM**

They are very spicy and easy to grow indoors.

**Junnie 10:18 AM**

_I KNOW!!! HOW DO YOU KNOW IT!!!_

**You 10:19 AM**

I did my homework :)

Then, silence. Wonwoo was worried he had done something impossibly wrong and had lost Jun forever—an unreasonable frequent thought—when his phone buzzed. He was still in bed under the blankets, refusing to let royalty reality fade the previous night from his mind.

He grabbed his phone again and saw Jun had sent a picture, only this time it wasn’t the usual cat meme—it was a picture he had taken himself.

Jun had never sent any photos besides food, when he was on set. However, this was a picture of the Thai pepper in the little light blue vase Wonwoo had chosen just one hour before, only now it was placed on a kitchen countertop. Jun’s kitchen countertop. It felt intimate in a whole new way.

**Junnie 10:25 AM**

_It’s perfect =) Thank you, Wonwoo <3_

_I loved it!_

Wonwoo was typing his reply when Jun sent another message, making him blush and erase what he intended to send.

**Junnie 10:26 AM**

_But it’s a pity that from all the possible spicy puns you went with_ “That flavor never be absent from your life..."

Wonwoo had, indeed, considered other puns involving spiciness, but all led to the sexual innuendo he was trying so hard to dodge. He was still committed to respecting Jun’s wishes, and sending the pepper tree had been entirely friendship-driven. Apparently, though, Jun thought otherwise.

**Junnie 10:27 AM**

_Sending this tree to top your hotness_

_Let me know in case you want to spicy it up_

_Now you’ll be even hotter~~_

Wonwoo stilled reading the second one. Could Jun be really…?

Before he could fall into the black hole of overthinking, another photo had been sent. And this one was, oh god, _a selfie_.

The Thai pepper tree was in the background while Jun was closer, eyes bright and candid smile, as beautiful as always. Taking amazing selfies was his trademark, and Wonwoo could attest now it extended to when he was at home, no makeup or hair done.

Wonwoo had access to a selfie in which Jun had no makeup or hair done. _Fuck._

He almost dropped the phone on his own face trying to save it, then spent another minute just admiring Jun’s messy hair, skin pores, and lovely moles, all of them exposed. Still incredibly beautiful, but Wonwoo couldn’t say that to him, so he compromised.

**You 10:30 AM**

Cute

Wonwoo had planned to spend the day stealing glimpses of Jun’s selfie, as well as set it as the wallpaper of his second secret phone, but he suspected Jun had taken his ‘Cute’ remark as some sort of challenge. The photos kept coming during the day, each more provocative than the other. He almost choked in the afternoon, drinking tea with his grandmother the Queen when Jun sent another selfie, this time with an entire pepper inside his mouth saying,

**Junnie 5:23 PM**

_I wish it was bigger_

He obviously had to excuse himself and return to his chambers as fast as possible, completely incapable to function properly. Wonwoo had given up to reply as well—it was utterly impossible to say anything that remained on an only-friendly level. And he was suspicious Jun was aware of that.

The confirmation came half an hour after that, in the shape of yet another selfie.

This time, the pepper tree wasn’t on the countertop anymore. It was on the floor, Wonwoo couldn’t figure from which room, nor could he care, because right behind it there was Junhui. Well, although the person’s head was not in the frame, he _knew_ it was Jun, he had stared at the man’s figure too many hours to not recognize even his shadow. But what Wonwoo had never seen was Jun’s bare legs, which apparently he was seeing now. They were widespread, the tree placed between them, hiding completely Jun’s crotch and the beginning of his abdomen, which was also exposed since it all indicated he was biting the hem of his hoodie.

Jun said nothing more, and he didn’t need to. His message was clear, Wonwoo’s cock had caught it as fast as his brain. Without replying again, he fetched the first pair of shoes he saw and went to find Jihoon and Soonyoung.

Twenty minutes later, they were at Jun’s building. Somehow, Jihoon had parked inside the building’s garage, which he explained as “part of the protocol established with Mr. Xu over the Hummingbird Nest.” Wonwoo couldn’t decide if he should be worried or thrilled about how inevitable everyone around them judged Jun and him to be.

His bodyguards accompanied him to Jun’s floor, information which they obviously already knew. They got in position, each on one side of the apartment door.

Wonwoo knocked.

It was weird how he didn’t feel nervous at all, the levels of adrenaline and excitement too high on his system. He heard someone approaching on the other side, maybe checking the peephole, and then the door opened.

Jun was there, staring at him in complete surprise, mouth agape, and a ridiculous pink headband with a ginormous cat head on the top holding his hair away from his face.

“Can I come in?”

Jun stepped aside to let him enter.

“Is that how you royals reply to texts?” Jun questioned, a light tease on his tone.

“So you _are_ wearing pants,” Wonwoo pointed to Jun’s legs, earning a blush from the other.

“I can explain,” Jun offered, embarrassed. Wonwoo thought Jun was misreading his determination as angriness.

“I didn’t come here to hear an explanation,” Wonwoo pierced Jun’s eyes, his tone serious. “I came to make you a proposal.”

Jun frowned and then crooked an eyebrow in interest.

“Go on.”

Wonwoo swallowed and gathered all the courage he had, piled up from all the times he couldn’t fight for what he truly wanted.

“What do you think about us giving ourselves one night, only one night to blow the steam?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Is ending with a cliffhanger better or worst than ending with angst??  
> My beta informed me that apparently chili peppers are slang for penis in Korean. Let’s pretend Jun knows it, but Wonwoo is, as usual, oblivious xD  
> Comments motivate me ~a lot. I’d appreciate it if you could drop a word if you liked this update.
> 
> also, I'll be changing usernames here in Ao3 when I post the next chapter :)


	6. Hit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jun has one condition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated. Please take a look before reading.
> 
> *clicks post button*
> 
> *hides forever*

Wonwoo wasn’t sure anymore if the words had left his lips. Jun was staring at him unmoving, surprised—his huge eyes looking back at Wonwoo in astonishment combined with his mouth slightly opened. The pink headband made everything more surreal. Maybe it was all a dream, and Wonwoo had finally watched enough dramas to affect his brain. He was about to ask again, in case the first time had been a hallucination, when Jun finally said something.

“One night to blow the steam?”

“Yes,” Wonwoo confirmed, gaining confidence. “I understand that we can’t have more than this, because of your career, but you can’t deny there is something strong between us, and unless we do something about it, we may end up complicating things in front of undesirable people. So, unless I got your pictures in the wrong way, maybe we should give this one night a try. I don’t want to hurt you, or your career, in any way.”

Jun stared at him again, absorbing Wonwoo’s reasoning. He swallowed, bit his lower lip, then looked at Wonwoo again.

“Ok,” he whispered.

“Ok?” Wonwoo repeated, surprised.

“Ok,” Jun confirmed, softly this time. He smiled and ventured some steps closer to Wonwoo until they were face to face. Wonwoo could feel the electricity around them sharpening with their proximity, and he could sense Jun had felt it as well. He seemed a bit unsure, but that didn’t stop him from getting closer and closer until the tip of his nose was brushing Wonwoo’s cheek. Wonwoo turned his head slightly, also brushing his nose on Jun’s skin, and soon their lips found each other's.

It wasn’t intense or rushed, but by any means less passionate. It was intimate, the way their lips touched slowly, acknowledging every part of the other. Before it could deepen into something else, Jun parted ways but was still close to Wonwoo.

“I never said it, but I really like that we're the same height,” he confessed. His hands were resting on Wonwoo’s shoulders, while Wonwoo’s were placed on his hips.

“Well, it’s definitely useful now,” Wonwoo joked softly. He had known for ages that they were the same height, and the detail had been present in many of the scenarios he had playfully orchestrated in his head. “Are you really ok with this?”

“Yes,” Jun reassured him. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he blushed. “And you’re right, maybe we just need to… well, do what you said. Maybe it’ll be easier later.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Wonwoo caressed Jun’s cheek with one finger.

The phrase snapped something on Jun.

“No,” he stepped back a little. “I mean, in general, I appreciate it, sure,” he tried to explain. “But actually I have one condition about this night.”

“Anything,” Wonwoo rushed to assure, concerned.

Jun gave a deep breath.

“I want you to do whatever _you_ want tonight. To me,” despite his blushing, his tone was certain.

“What—what do you mean?” Wonwoo asked, sure he had misunderstood.

Jun exhaled and started caressing Wonwoo’s arms.

“We don’t know each other for long, but I could gather you are used to leaving the things you want aside. And I think you deserve more, and I know I can’t give you all you want,” Jun paused, looking down, a profound sadness in his eyes. “But I can give you this. I can give you myself tonight.”

Wonwoo listened to what he had to say, astonished. The fact he had no idea what to do proving every word Jun had just said.

“Junnie, I can’t possibly—”

“I trust you,” Jun interrupted him, determined. “And that’s my condition.”

Wonwoo’s mind still didn’t fully comprehend what was happening but he was determined to do whatever needed to make that night happen. 

“Ok,” he agreed. “Will you let me know if you’re not comfortable, at least?”

“Yeah,” Jun conceded, expression softening again. He took Wonwoo’s hand and guided him to the hallway, which Wonwoo found out led to his bedroom.

When the door closed behind them, Wonwoo still couldn’t understand what was happening. It was too much to fathom, a reality too close to fantasy for his brain to truly process. He decided to act like this was all a dream.

Dreams, he reasoned, he was used to controlling.

So when the door closed, limiting, even more, the world around them, Wonwoo pretended this was one of those nights he was in his bed, desperate to forget about his own fate, when he allowed his imagination to travel in Jun’s land.

He took Jun’s free wrist and brought it softly to his lips. Then one of his arms slipped around Jun’s waist, and the other guided his face toward Wonwoo’s. He kissed Jun, first upholding the gentle rhythm they had established so far, but soon increasing the pressure of his lips, his fingers, while leading Jun further into the room. Wonwoo had a vague idea where the bed was located and did his best to guide them in its direction without opening his eyes or stopping their kiss. When the back of Jun’s legs touched the bed, they broke the kiss, and Wonwoo looked at him, so close, absorbing all the wonders that that man made him feel. He noticed Jun was out of breath, and so was he.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” Jun whispered without breaking the gaze between them. “All the time, since we met.”

“I didn’t think I could spend even more time thinking about you than I already did,” Wonwoo smiled, caressing Jun’s hair by his nape, where his hand rested. “Then I met you in flesh, and I could never have imagined how many universes of wonders you encompass.”

“Wonwoo…”

“I’ll make you feel really good tonight,” he ensured. A shade of pink caught his eye, and he remembered the cat headband. “Can I take this off?” he asked teasingly.

“Yes!” Jun blurted and took it off harshly himself. “I had just finished my skincare routine when the doorbell rang.”

Wonwoo proceeded to make him lay down on the bed behind him, Jun crawling backward on his elbows towards the pillows.

“That’s why your face is not in the pic?” he asked, hovering over Jun.

“Not only.”

“Afraid I would sell it to the papers?”

“No…” Jun replied unsurely.

Wonwoo got closer to his face and whispered by his ear, “I don’t like to share.”

He felt Jun shiver below him.

“Me neither,” he whispered back.

Wonwoo kissed him slowly again, just his lips, then asked without putting any distance between them, “Does your skincare routine require you to take off your pants?” 

Jun was caught off guard and jerked his head away in surprise.

“Of course not!”

“So you usually take them off to take selfies?” Wonwoo teased, delighted.

“No!” Jun was outraged.

“Just for me, then?”

Jun held his gaze for a second in silence before replying.

“Just for you.”

Wonwoo smiled softly, pleased with the answer.

“So you don’t mind if I take them off now, right?”

“Be my guest,” Jun smiled cheekily.

Wonwoo, however, started taking off Jun’s hoodie, making an effort to not linger his eyes on the skin being revealed, not yet—he wanted to marvel at the complete picture all at once. Fast, his hands found the waistband of Jun’s sweatpants.

“I wondered if you were wearing just the hoodie, in the picture,” he asked before his hands moved to pull the fabric downwards.

“Why don’t you find out?” Jun teased mischievously.

Not wasting a minute, Wonwoo took them off, just to reveal that, indeed, Jun had been wearing nothing under his pants the whole evening. He held his breath, only now realizing how the enticing detail affected him. He was able to hold his impulses for just a minute, enough to engrave on his memory the outline of Jun’s collarbones, the slight definition of his chest and torso, the beautiful semi-erection right in front of him, and the strong tights he had only dreamed to see bare. Promising himself to get his lips acquainted to every detail, he returned to kiss Jun, now with unashamed passion and an unparalleled urge to touch the other’s skin as fast as possible.

“Not fair,” Jun complained among the kiss, taking Wonwoo’s glasses off and placing them somewhere by their left. “You’re wearing too many clothes!”

“I thought the condition was to do whatever _I_ wanted,” Wonwoo teased him, removing Jun’s hands from the hem of his shirt.

“But I have ‘ _steam to blow’_ too!” he protested.

Wonwoo laughed into Jun’s neck, the place he was exploring at that moment, and seated back on his heels, taking off his shirt in one motion. Oh, he should have done it earlier—Jun gasped and stared at his abs mesmerized.

“You work out!” he accused.

“Hey, why are you so surprised?” Wonwoo asked lightly, getting back to hover over Jun, continuing to conquer the extension of his skin. He felt Jun’s hands gaining ground over his back, his biceps, his shoulders as well.

“I’ve never… Always so much… suits— _Ahn_!” he moaned, reacting exactly as Wonwoo wanted when he nipped on the spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

“It was advised I practiced some sports,” he explained over Jun’s moans, still not interrupting his ministrations. “To channel some frustration, I presume, although it was never explicitly said,” he had one hand exploring the fine lines of Jun’s abdomen, and another lightly touching his tight. His lips had been kissing a descend towards Jun’s right nipple, and finally arrived. “I guess I enjoyed the activity. It grew on me,” and without warning, he bit.

Jun moaned, and reflex made him hold tighter on Wonwoo’s arm, his leg rising and embracing Wonwoo’s waist. Wonwoo pressed back on Jun’s body, feeling his now full erection against Wonwoo’s defined abs. The change enticed yet more moans, not that Wonwoo couldn’t get enough of them. He marveled at Jun's responsiveness, determined to learn all he could about his body, even if he would never have the chance to apply his findings again. His descent provided some slow friction between his abs and Jun’s cock, and although he tried his best to take his time, biting and sucking on Jun’s abdomen, his belly button, the sides of his thin waist, Wonwoo was also eager to taste the other.

And taste Jun he did, when his lips found Jun’s hard cock. First, he nuzzled at it, kissed it from base to tip, then enveloped the head with his tongue, teasing Jun’s slit. He did his best to take as much as he could, but he wasn’t really experienced in the blowjob department. Considering the noises Jun kept making and how intensively he was holding Wonwoo’s hair, he got the idea he was on the right path.

Suddenly, the pressure of the hands on his hair changed slightly pulling him away.

“Is everything ok?” Wonwoo asked worried, saliva connecting his lips and Jun’s cock.

“I—I want to taste you too,” Jun pleaded.

Even if that weren’t exactly what Wonwoo wanted at that moment, he was certain he couldn’t deny the request. Jun’s state was a vision to never forget, with his half-closed eyes glossy, mouth agape, hair somehow disheveled. He was completely breathless, and Wonwoo could feel his body was on fire.

“I want that too,” Wonwoo conceded, surprised to find out his voice was hoarse, out of breath as well.

He moved away from Jun, taking off his pants and underwear then kneeling and sitting on his ankles. The new position allowed him to see Jun spread on the bed, a trail of Wonwoo’s saliva gleaming on the light where his lips had been. His cock trembled with the sight, and he noticed he had been so endeared by Jun’s body he had forgotten his own—he was painfully hard.

Jun rearranged himself, also kneeling right in front of Wonwoo. Then, he lowered his upper body, elbows sustaining his weight on the bed, eyes sparkling on the same level as Wonwoo’s crotch, and looked up to Wonwoo, waiting.

“Make me come,” Wonwoo whispered. He was already too close, but certain the night was just starting.

Without hesitation, Jun got closer to him and enveloped Wonwoo’s cock with his lips. Wonwoo’s hand instantly flew to Jun’s hair, his fingers and the locks interlaced, not pulling them, but holding tight. The sensation was almost too much—the slick warmth of Jun’s lips and tongue moving up and down, circling his cock was definitely one of the best things to ever happen to Wonwoo. His eyes closed in reflex to the overwhelming warm growing in his lower abdomen, and he opened them as soon as he realized it. There was no way he would miss a single second of that night, and the scene in front of him was proof enough his approach was worth all efforts—Jun’s spine was arched, his ass high on the bed, the perfect, round silhouette framing the extension of the skin that was his back, muscular and tensed. Jun now was taking him in completely, his head bobbing up and down, and when Wonwoo felt the light tease of teeth from base to tip combined with his tongue encircling Wonwoo’s tip at the end, he was thrown to the edge too quickly.

“ _Jun-nie_ ,” he tried to warn, but it only made Jun engulf him deeply. He worked his throat around Wonwoo until his last spasm, Jun’s hand holding his waist for support.

He recovered and leaned on to kiss Jun, not caring to taste himself. He cupped Jun’s face and kissed him deeply, truly affected by the blowjob.

“You’re really good at this,” Wonwoo praised.

“You taste really good,” Jun blushed, allowing Wonwoo to lay him down on the bed again. Wonwoo laid sideways beside him, supporting his head with his hand and looking at Jun, who returned his gaze. His eyes lingered downwards, stopping on Jun’s hard cock. He reached it with his free hand and caressed it lightly.

“I’m not done with you,” he promised, piercing Jun’s eyes.

“I know you aren’t,” Jun didn’t wave his gaze, his breath faltering again. Wonwoo’s thumb teased his slit and he gasped, finally closing his eyes.

Wonwoo leaned to brush their lips and commanded, “Turn around”, reluctantly letting go of the other’s cock.

Jun obeyed instantly, and Wonwoo repositioned himself returning to the end of the bed, between Jun’s spread legs. His view was marvelous—Jun’s toned back, his perked, round ass, followed by his strong legs. Wonwoo inhaled deeply and leaned over him, enclosing his body and housing his mouth on Jun’s neck. Jun gasped under him, over Wonwoo’s half-hard cock nesting on his ass, or maybe over Wonwoo’s mouth, teeth, and tongue, devouring his neck, Wonwoo wasn’t sure. He busied his hands with Jun’s, interlacing their fingers, until it was time to move downwards, biting Jun’s back muscles, earning tiny gasps from his lips. The sounds and the soft skin between his lips and teeth were enough to work up Wonwoo again and soon he was erected again. He reached Jun’s lower back and finally was obliged to let go of the other’s hands, incapable of holding back the need to knead Jun’s cheeks. He felt the smooth, tender skin under his pressing fingers and trembled. Jun was moaning low now, his hips making tiny motions against the mattress now and then. Without more hesitation, Wonwoo spread his cheeks and felt his cock jerk on the sight of his delightful asshole. The motion made Jun shamelessly perk his hips up, and the offer was enough for Wonwoo to dive in and lick it straight, from behind his hanging bollocks to Jun’s lower back. 

“Wonwoo!” Jun whimpered under his ministrations, but Wonwoo didn’t stop. He got comfortable laying on the bed, lowering Jun’s ass a bit so his face had a good angle to lick and bite as he pleased. His teeth sunk into the soft cheek, Wonwoo quickly licking the spot and sucking it afterward. He repeated the process some more until Jun’s ass was covered by his marks. Pleased, he focused his attention on Jun’s asshole, his tongue caressing slowly around it, then the tip teasing the entrance bit by bit. He nibbled softly there too, and Jun’s hips jerked in response.

“Wonwoo, please,” he begged faintly against the duvet.

With one last kiss on top of Jun’s left cheek, Wonwoo retreated.

“Where is your lube?” he asked, getting on his knees. His cock bobbed heavily in front of him. Jun, out of breath, weakly pointed towards his nightstand, where Wonwoo also found condoms.

The moment Wonwoo’s slick finger carefully entered Jun’s hole was the first time he truly felt he could rule a kingdom. He knew what he wanted, and how he would get it, and was certain it would be his. The feeling was intoxicating, and he had to use all his restraint to be gentle, despite the tight, hot, tempting feeling around his fingers urging him to go as fast as possible. When three of his fingers were inside Jun, Wonwoo reached his hand under him and touched his cock lightly—it was hard and leaking, just how Wonwoo wanted him. He pulled his fingers out gently, Jun’s hole twitching over the loss.

“I want to look at you,” he asked Jun. His voice came out hoarse and breathless, making him realize how affected he already was.

As he had done the whole night, Jun obeyed him, slowly this time. Wonwoo found his place again between his legs, caressing the skin while Jun locked them around his torso. Wonwoo had leaned over him, finding his lips and kissing them tenderly.

“Is everything ok?”

“It’s perfect,” Jun replied. The way he said it, intense and candid, still out of breath, made Wonwoo’s heart beat even faster. So far, it had been perfect for him as well, way beyond the physical touching—it was as if, after cherishing Jun’s every cell, Wonwoo was connected to him, somehow deeply.

Wonwoo pulled back just enough to align himself to Jun’s entrance. He pressured into it, the tightness around his tip instantly making him moan, and Jun gasp. Wonwoo was careful to move into him slowly, and, as the angle allowed, he leaned over Jun again, eager to kiss his moans. When he was all in, Jun’s mouth was silently parted, his eyes dazed. Wonwoo waited for him to get used to the intrusion, easing the feeling by peppering kisses on his neck and collarbone.

“You’re so tight,” Wonwoo moaned in a low voice against his skin.

“It has— _ah!_ —been a while.”

Wonwoo returned his gaze to Jun, trying to read whether he was comfortable now. He was applying all his restraint into not moving his hips yet, his focus completely on Jun’s reactions—he was no longer gasping, although still out of breath.

“You can move now,” Jun said softly. The way he said it filled Wonwoo’s heart with warmth, and instead of releasing his self-control and move, he was taken by a more urgent need to kiss Jun. Wonwoo kissed him slowly and deeply, and after losing themselves on it for just a bit, they parted with a shy giggle. After a last soft peck on the tip of Jun’s nose, Wonwoo began to move, his eyes never leaving Jun’s.

The first thrusts made them both moaned in unison. Wonwoo had to close his eyes to handle the pleasure dominating his body. Everything about Jun was absolutely incredible, and all the places in contact with Wonwoo's skin were _burning_. It didn’t matter he had just come minutes ago—his cock was aching hard, overwhelmed with all the pleasure. So he decided to go very slowly since there was no way in hell his only night with Jun would end that quickly. Also, he was hoping he could maintain a certain reputation.

So, slowly he thrust, deeper and deeper at each time. Jun’s fingers sunk into his back, his moans nonstop among tiny whimpers.

“Look at me,” Wonwoo commanded. He could sense Jun’s eyes had been closed only for him to handle the overwhelming sensation, but he needed Jun to see him.

And when their eyes met under the rhythmic movement of their hips, the harmony of their breaths, Wonwoo felt completion like never before. Suddenly it all meant everything and nothing, and he could feel the roots of his connection to Jun only getting stronger.

“Wonwoo,” Jun called him, one hand now caressing Wonwoo’s jawline. He didn’t say anything else, but Wonwoo knew deep into his bones what he was saying—because he wanted to say it too. He exchanged the forbidden, unsaid words with a passionate, however gentle, kiss.

The concept of time blurred within their caress, tiny smiles and languid kisses, until one of Wonwoo’s leisurely thrusts brushed the right spot making Jun beg.

“Harder, _please_.”

The moans among his plead were enough to drive Wonwoo close to the edge. Already missing the contact with Jun’s body, he repositioned himself on his knees, never slipping out of Jun. Aware of Jun’s flexibility, he took the other’s right leg and placed it over his own shoulder. Then, he thrust deeply again.

“ _Ahhh_!” Jun arched. Now Wonwoo could see his cock, bobbing heavily between them, come already dripping from the tip and accumulating near his belly button. “ _Wonu…_ ”

“ _Junnie…_ ,” Wonwoo moaned back, his thrusts quickening. The sight of his cock getting in and out of Jun’s entrance, the sound of his balls hitting Jun’s ass in cadence with their moans, were all fuel to the increasing fire about to explode inside him. He placed the hand that had been grasping Jun’s ass on Jun’s cock, and decided that feather touches would be a great contrast to the rough rhythm of his cock. With one last whimper, Jun came, mouth again parted soundlessly while his body spasmed around Wonwoo. The new pressure made him see stars and grit his teeth as his climax built. A couple more thrusts and he spilled inside Jun.

After slipping out gently, he collapsed by Jun’s side to regain his breath. When his heartbeat seemed closer to normal again, he allowed himself to open his eyes and turned his head to the side. Jun was already looking at him, a soft smile on his lips. Seeing Wonwoo had recovered, he supported his head on his hand, elbow on the bed, and leaned closer to Wonwoo.

“I really liked the things you wanted to do to me.”

Wonwoo chuckled, a bit shy.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Jun rested his chin on Wonwoo’s chest, his fingers leisurely drawing patterns over his skin.

“Cuddles?” he proposed.

“After I clean us,” Wonwoo smiled, pecking his lips. Reluctantly, he got up and found the bathroom, where he trashed the used condom and got some wet cloth to get Jun cleaned.

Then, when he set himself in bed again, arranging the duvet around them both, Jun nestled his head on Wonwoo’s chest, content. Wonwoo’s arms enclosed his body, and he could feel Jun’s hand resting over his own heart. He closed his eyes and inhaled, the scent of Jun’s shampoo taking over his senses.

Truly happy, they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I really finished a chapter not making anyone suffer???  
> Will it last??? xD Let's find out ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading!!  
> I'm a bit behind on replying to comments. I want to end this year publishing at least chapter 8, and all my energy is going into these updates. But please let me know what are you thinking!! I read all comments several times and they motivated me a lot.
> 
> Also, I've changed my username. Please don't forget who I am xD


	7. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wonwoo let reality consume him (or acts Fear lyrics too literally).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta is a goddess. I’ve posted around 70K words this year and she read every.single.one.of.them. And prevented me from giving up, doubting myself, and offering you guys stories with subpar development. We own it all to her <3 P, thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart.

It was probably dawn when Wonwoo woke up. Jun was breathing calmly, still laying on his chest. Even without his glasses, he could see the first rays of daylight peeking from the other side of the room, presumably where the window was.

He had no idea of the furniture or layout of Jun’s apartment. Blinded with lust, he hadn’t paid attention to anything but Jun—until now, when the silence and darkness of the night relieved his senses allowing his mind to work.

Soon it would be morning, and Jun’s apartment would reveal itself. Wonwoo would then know the place where Jun was most comfortable, where he could be his true self the most. Wonwoo had never dreamed of having such knowledge of the actor’s life. Although always available to his fans, Jun was also reserved in nature.

But Wonwoo couldn’t associate the man within his arms with the man on the screen anymore. Not only, anyway. Jun was so much more, a companion, a friend—a lover. If the previous hours have proven him anything (besides a new level of pleasure that probably would never be beaten), was that he had now fallen for Jun, if he hadn’t before. The sense of rightness he had always felt in Jun’s presence had intensified, and every primal instinct Wonwoo had was currently yelling at him to never, ever, leave this apartment, this man.

But Wonwoo couldn’t listen to any of it. Duty screamed louder, always had, and now was no different. The realization turned the anticipation of discovering Jun in his natural habit, to learn the way the morning sunlight illuminated his smile, into dread.

If Wonwoo had a sip of what a normal life by Jun’s side could be while knowing he could never live it, he would go mad with rage. Maybe it was unavoidable, after the night they had had, but he still hoped those memories could be masked with lust—and the love would be hidden. Morning tenderness, however, couldn’t be disguised.

Determined to ease his heartbreak, he gently moved Jun aside, placing his head on the pillow. To Wonwoo’s relief, Jun didn’t wake up, so he dressed as fast and silently as possible. Unfortunately, when he was putting on his socks, his name was called.

“Come back to bed,” Jun invited, his voice lazy. Wonwoo could see in the shadows that his hair was disheveled. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

Feeling the stab piercing his heart, Wonwoo averted his gaze. He couldn’t do it looking at Jun.

“Morning is no night,” he said flatly, relieved his voice didn’t break. “I have to go.”

But he was weak, and before closing the door behind him, Wonwoo looked back. Jun’s eyes were sad, and their sadness propagated to his lips, posture, shoulders. Disappointment blended into the mix.

A second before the wrongness of a sad Jun broke his resolution, Wonwoo closed the door behind him and left.

He found his way to the entrance door doing his best to ignore any detail of the apartment, not wanting to give ammunition to his future imagination. In the hall, he was surprised to find Jihoon and Soonyoung had been replaced.

“Morning, Your Highness,” agent Boo Seungwan greeted him. By his side, already informing in the radio Wonwoo’s position, was agent Chwe Hansol.

“Morning Seungwan, Hansol,” Wonwoo greeted back. He was aware Jihoon and Soonyoung didn’t work 24 hours shifts, but it had been a long time since he had met their substitutes. Although years younger than him, the pair was reliable, and their differences in character were the biggest triumph of their partnership. 

“You can still stay for a couple of more hours, Your Highness,” Hansol warned him. Jihoon and Soonyoung would never say anything that reminded Wonwoo his schedule wasn’t completely up to himself, but Seungwan and Hansol’s style was different—the first from being forwarded from nature, the other, Wonwoo suspected, from total unawareness. Both were honest, though, and that matter to Wonwoo more than any professional decorum other people would expect from royal guard agents.

“Thanks, Hansol, but we can go now.”

“Is everything ok, Your Highness?” Seungwan inquired, brows knitting in concern.

“We can just go now,” Wonwoo repeated, avoiding to think what on his face or demure had given up the complete breakdown he was trying to contain within himself.

Fortunately, Seungwan was very perceptive and didn’t probe any further. They conducted Wonwoo to his car, and after that, it was all a blur.

He was vaguely aware of the passersby beyond the car window heading to work even before sunshine broke the enchantment of the royal blue sky. Vaguely aware of the car entering the palace gates, of getting out of it and walking to his chambers. Before climbing to bed and letting his duvet engulf him, Wonwoo took off all his clothes, thinking he probably should hide them deep in his closet, or, much better, burn them. He would probably have to sell all his Wen Junhui merch collection, all his treasured photocards, although at the moment he couldn’t think of a way to get rid of the 6 feet tall Jun portrait currently hidden in his closet without word getting out. He didn’t want to burn it too. The TV he would probably hit with a baseball bat. It seemed a good way to release his frustration without revealing the true reasons behind it.

Wonwoo would never watch TV again. Ever.

He wasn’t really sure how he would survive in a Junless world, but he was certain he would perish in a world with even a minimum amount of Jun.

Because Prince Jeon Wonwoo had been terribly mistaken.

How, for the love of all his ancestors, had he thought spending one night with Jun would not ruin him forever? Did Wonwoo expect it to be bad? Bad enough for him to convince himself once and for all that Jun and he weren’t the perfect fit for one another? No, that wasn’t what Wonwoo had expected. He was pretty sure, now, that not even this would have drawn him away from Jun. He couldn’t remember anymore why it had seemed like a good idea at the time, maybe he hadn’t been thinking with the head on top of his body, but the one inside his pants, and the truth was it had destroyed everything.

It had been perfect. He had _felt_ perfect. Like he was exactly what he was supposed to be, in the right moment, the right place, with the person he was supposed to be with. Wonwoo didn’t have any second thoughts, nor feel any insecurity, when he was with Jun, and the fact that he could not be with him put every cell of his body screaming ‘ _wrong’_ over and over again.

The truth was Wonwoo had made the biggest mistake of his life—he had found out what would bring fulfillment to his life, and he couldn’t have it.

How was he supposed to live now he knew it? It was like being told the day you would die, or how you would die, and not being able to do anything about it. It was ironic, really, the way Jun had put all power on Wonwoo’s hands and how now he felt he was the most powerless man on Earth.

Defeated, Wonwoo allowed his tears to lead him to sleep.

***

In the following days, Wonwoo didn’t sell any merch, didn’t burn anything nor destroy any of his possessions. His mood varied each day—sometimes he wanted to tear all paper with Jun’s face apart with his bare hands, others he urged to take his photocard collection and just worship it for hours in the privacy of his chambers. He did neither. He feared who he would become after following any of these paths.

The same paralyzing fear prevented him from replying to Jun three days after their encounter. The actor had sent nothing more than a cute cat picture to Wonwoo, innocent and impartial. An invite to return their friendly relationship. Wonwoo couldn’t reply to it. Jun hadn’t sent anything else.

But Wonwoo wasn’t stupid, and he knew there were consequences. He could feel a growing hollow within his chest being filled daily not with void but poison. He was vaguely aware he was quieter and quieter each day, isolating himself from the few people present in his daily life. Wonwoo was living on autopilot, attending his royal duties in the flesh, but his spirit was elsewhere. He believed he had been doing a good job of hiding his sorrows from others until the day Jeonghan approached him.

“The hospital has canceled today’s reading, Your Highness,” he informed Wonwoo carefully.

“Why?”

Jeonghan hesitated. 

“They said the story from yesterday scared some of the children.”

“They got scared by Rumpelstiltskin?”

“Well, you told them the original version, in which Rumpelstiltskin tears himself in two at the end.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo had no idea he had done it. He remembered thinking the story sounded more realistic than his recollection, though.

“I understand Your Highness is going through… a phase,” Jeonghan proceeded cautiously. Wonwoo glared at him, challenging him to continue. Jeonghan didn’t fall for it. “And, as Head of Communications, is my job to advise you on how you can… overcome this situation before it causes any damage to the crown.”

Wonwoo snorted.

“Oh, yes, let’s not cause any damage to the immaculate crown,” he mocked. “What is your advice?”

“I see two options, Your Highness,” Jeonghan proceeded, relieved he wouldn’t have to argue further. “We can arrange for you to go on vacation for a week or two,” Wonwoo shuddered internally on having nothing to distract him from thinking of Jun for fourteen days. “Or,” Jeonghan paused, pressing his lips with uncertainty, “you can attend the opening of Xu Minghao’s exhibition this Saturday. You were invited weeks ago.”

Wonwoo paused, the name ringing a bell somewhere inside his fogged brain. It took him some seconds until he placed it—Wen Junhui’s agent. Xu Minghao was Jun’s agent, and Wonwoo knew they were close friends above their professional relationship. There was no doubt Jun would attend the opening.

He didn’t know what made him say it besides reckless desperation and the irrational feeling that, despite it all, he was scared Jun would forget him. However, the words left his lips before his heart could warn him.

“You can confirm my attendance.”

He returned to his chambers with his heart beating fast, feeling the poison he was getting acquainted with spreading through his body.

***

Later that night, when he was trying to understand what had compelled him to agree with spending hours confined in the same room as Jun after spending almost a week without saying a word to him, Wonwoo thought it was quite odd that Jeonghan had made such a proposal. As Head of Communications, his job was precisely to avoid crises, and Wonwoo couldn’t see a future in which his path and Jun’s would cross and Wonwoo wouldn’t bring scandalous disgrace over both of them. He was certain Jeonghan was quite aware of all that. Exhausted of royal politics, he set aside the topic—it was way more interesting to think about seeing Jun again anyway.

Wonwoo had been thoroughly Jun-deprived since leaving the other’s apartment. Ok, almost. The exception was Jun’s six feet tall portrait that he had taken off from his closet almost every day now. The first time, he had the excuse of being drunk and horny, but after that, he had only been sober. Unfortunately, horniness was a new constant in his life, the memories of tiny moans and smooth skin too striking for his brain to forget so soon. The result was an inevitable hard-on before sleeping, every night, and the unrestrainable urge to jerk off over Jun’s semi-shirtless giant portrait, like the old times. It worked, of course, but the afterglow was bitter—Wonwoo would remember he knew every cell below the fabric, how his skin felt under Wonwoo’s, how he sounded when wanting his lover back. He usually fell into a distressing sleep, only to wake up to face the portrait and put it in place, ashamed of his own repeated weakness.

He wasn’t sure how his body would react to being close to Jun again, so Wonwoo prepared himself jerking twice before the opening. It was like that first night when Jun attended the party in the palace—he felt just as nervous, just as afraid of losing control. Except now his inner battle was to _not_ approach Jun.

Wonwoo got to the gallery earlier than he should. He was too nervous to wait, and the result was arriving at an almost empty room. He had nodded to Minghao from afar, who stared at him fiercely, then tried to distract himself by looking at the paintings. Although they were nice, he couldn’t really bring himself to pay the attention they deserved.

He was already in his second drink when Jun arrived, confirming Wonwoo was an idiot. How would Wonwoo be able to restrain himself when the actor was wearing not only Wonwoo’s favorite earring—an arrow-shaped pendant—but also a dark gray suit, no tie, and a white shirt, at least two buttons undone more than acceptable. The vision was remarkable, and Wonwoo was surprised, for a second, that the whole room hadn’t started clapping when Jun crossed the threshold. God, Wonwoo was already gone. He swallowed and tried to look away. Unfortunately, his body was not obeying the commands sent by his brain, and before he could busy himself with something, anything, Jun locked eyes with him.

There was no smile, no friendly nod, no pretense. Like their relationship, the only thing left was longing, and this Jun’s stare had plenty. He didn’t break Wonwoo’s gaze for a long while, even while he kept conversation with someone. Wonwoo couldn’t really pay attention to who at the moment.

It didn’t get any better. That wasn’t really the crown usual scene, which had some consequences Wonwoo hadn’t considered. Most important, he didn’t really know anyone attending. This led to the horrifying realization that these _new_ people would have _expectations_ on having conversations with Wonwoo—the usual type of guests that attended royal events were acquainted with Wonwoo’s polite, monosyllabic replies. This crowd, though, wanted to _chat_. So he got caught between trying to stop looking at Jun and the regret of engaging in painful conversation when trying to do so. Wonwoo was trapped in an escape loop—the problem was he still wanted to be there more than anywhere else in the world.

And the painful contradiction wasn’t even the worst part. It didn’t take long for Wonwoo to notice Jun was up to something. There was no other explanation. The other had spent the entire evening—and there was no other word for that— _teasing_ Wonwoo from afar. From intense gazes when sipping a drink, to touching other men _too much_ , and on one special occasion that almost made Wonwoo choke, _licking_ his fingers without tear eye contact. He wasn’t sure if Jun was doing all that was on purpose, but his cock had obviously got the memo and was now beginning to harden inside his pants. Wonwoo would have to do something _pretty soon_.

Although it was crystal clear for Wonwoo the silent agreement they both had on not getting close to each other, he had the feeling Jun was still afraid of Wonwoo approaching him. His every movement seemed to pull Wonwoo towards him, but Jun’s actual actions said the opposite. He had proactively engaged in talk after talk, finding someone else as soon as the previous conversation ended. His picks were mostly attractive men, to Wonwoo’s annoyance. 

After getting distracted too many times and losing track of his own conversations, Wonwoo leaned on the bar sipping his drink. The spot seemed less inviting than just standing in the middle of the room by himself. His eyes, however, soon caught sight of Jun again, and despite the stabbing feeling into his heart, he couldn’t look away.

Jun was again engrossed in conversation with yet another attractive man, except he seemed to be more relaxed with this one. _They must know each other_ , Wonwoo concluded, gripping his glass forcefully. Jun was laughing a lot, and each time, his hand would travel down the man’s arm, sometimes gripping his biceps. _At least this guy is not touching him back_ , Wonwoo thought. The guy had his back towards Wonwoo, and he couldn’t really see his face, although his fit physique and neat outfit said it all. Jun hadn’t looked at Wonwoo not even once since their conversation started, and Wonwoo’s annoyance was escalating quickly—until Jun spared him a quick glance.

But Wonwoo’s relief didn’t last. Soon Jun’s fingers were diving into his drink and catching the cherry submerged there. His eyes never leaving the man in front of him—who seemed to be telling Jun something—, he took the cherry to his lips and licked it gently. Wonwoo swallowed, looking around quickly to check if someone had eyes on him. When his eyes turned back to Jun, the cherry was passing through his lips then he sucked it gently. Almost unconsciously, Wonwoo rested his glass over the bar counter, suspicious he wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. His hands were sweating, and his cock had only got harder. After the whole cherry was inside Jun’s mouth, Wonwoo believed the worst had already passed, but he was wrong. In a minute, Jun pulled the cherry stem from his lips, in the shape of a knot. He presented it to the man he had been talking to, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

And that did it for Wonwoo. He knew what that tongue was capable of, his cock still remembered every movement. He couldn’t watch it anymore, or pretend the situation inside his pants was under control. Without another thought, he stepped away from the bar and marched towards the exit.

“Where is the closest bathroom?” he asked Jihoon as soon as they were out of the opening main room.

“Left at the end of the hallway, Your Highness.”

They followed Wonwoo there, and he waited for Soonyoung to enter the space and run the usual check.

“All clear.”

Wonwoo almost ran inside, just now noticing how much he needed to be alone. He turned the tap on and washed his face down his neck, trying to seize the heat still growing inside him, to no avail. His brain had entered an insufferable loop of wet lips brushing red cherries. Surrendering, he allowed his right hand to advance to his groin, while the left kept supporting him holding the sink counter. The faintest touch was enough to spread relief into his veins. Wonwoo exhaled satisfied, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

The moment he applied a bit more pressure, the door opened. Wonwoo managed to open his eyes and turn his head, but his hand didn’t move. Still pressuring his own cock, his eyes met an astonished Jun by the entrance.

“I thought you have left!” Jun exclaimed. Then, his eyes followed Wonwoo’s right arm until his hand. “ _Oh_.”

Wonwoo removed his hand at once.

“How did you notice it? Aren’t you entertained enough talking to that guy?”

“Jisoo? _Seoul Avenue_ director?” Jun's worried expression was now teasing. “And you call yourself a fan.”

Maybe in another moment Wonwoo would relish in the return of their teasing. Right now, though, he was just exhausted from fighting his longing. He exhaled his tiredness and leaned his two hands on the counter, head down.

“What do you want, Junhui? Why are you here?”

“You know why,” Jun’s voice was so soft Wonwoo lifted his head to look at him. He saw him getting closer, and the sincerity in his expression. “I’m pretty sure we feel the same. In every sense,” he punctuated the last part sparing a glance at the visible bulge of Wonwoo’s crotch.

Wonwoo copied his motion, and there it was, a slight bulge in the front of Jun’s pants as well.

“I don’t understand what this has to do with me,” he replied bitterly.

“Don’t be dense, Wonwoo,” Jun got angry and advanced towards Wonwoo, stopping right in front of him. “You know _you_ did it. Just from the way you look at me. _You know_!”

“I don’t know anything!” Wonwoo couldn’t refrain his irritation anymore. “I just know you spent the whole evening talking to a bunch of guys, liking your lips, sucking a fucking cherry for them!”

“For you, you idiot! I only came here because you RSVP!”

“Of course not, Xu Minghao is your best friend!”

“That’s why he understood I needed time to fix my fucking heartbreak!”

This wasn’t what Wonwoo expected. He could deal with Jun choosing his own career and leaving Wonwoo behind, but his suffering at this length didn’t sit right with him. And the fact Jun was in pain, maybe as much as Wonwoo, made everything around them felt smaller, irrelevant. The thousand reasons Wonwoo kept repeating to himself for them to be apart evaporated from his system, leaving behind just the certainty they both felt.

Released from all strings binding his mind until now, Wonwoo erased the distance between them, his arm embracing Jun's waist fiercely and pulling their bodies together, his lips crashing into Jun’s.

Jun moaned in relief inside Wonwoo’s mouth, his fingers flying into Wonwoo’s hair and holding it tight. At that moment, Wonwoo’s hunger was Jun’s hunger, only intensified for the days they had been apart. Now that Jun’s skin was under his touch again, Wonwoo had no idea how he had survived that week, nor how he had conceived possible to _live_ away from Jun.

Even more aroused by Jun’s touch, moans, and scent, Wonwoo pressed their crotches together, even more, trying to eliminate any space separating them. They were shamelessly rubbing against each other now, and even with their passionate kisses, which now and then traveled to their necks, it wasn’t enough. Their despair awakened the dragon of action inside Wonwoo’s chest, what, apparently, usually happened in Jun’s presence. He turned Jun backwards, leaning the front of the actor’s thighs on the counter, and pressed his clothed cock against Jun’s ass. Jun moaned and pressed back, his head falling back, resting on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Wonwoo’s mouth found shelter in ravaging Jun’s neck, but his hand mercifully pressed on Jun’s cock. Rubbing against each other, they found their own rhythm. Wonwoo felt the fire building inside him, fueled by Jun’s moans. It didn’t take long for him to feel Jun’s body spasming in his arms and a warm sensation spreading under Jun’s pants. The magnitude of it all crushed him, throwing him over the edge. He rubbed harder against Jun and bit his neck, eyes closing from the overwhelming feeling.

Wonwoo released his teeth, and rested his head on Jun’s shoulder, embracing him tight and taking a minute to catch his breath. Then, Jun turned within his arms, facing him and cupping Wonwoo’s cheeks with both hands.

“We’re so stupid,” he smiled softly.

“We are,” Wonwoo smiled back. Jun’s arms rested lazily over his shoulders.

Now that the week’s tension had been released, Wonwoo’s brain finally received fresh oxygen. He could hear the gears moving inside his head, and the consequences of the whole evening were crushing his afterglow. But none changed his mind. He had no doubt his efforts should focus on damage control—not on running away.

“We’ve ruined our outfits,” he assessed. “People will notice.”

“People probably have already noticed.”

“I gave you a huge hickey,” Wonwoo blushed.

“I always bring foundation with me.”

“How are you so calm? Do you have it all figured out?”

“Yes,” Jun smiled brightly. “I’ve a plan. You’ll go to my apartment and wait for me there.”

“Am I?”

“The passcode is your birthday.”

Wonwoo couldn’t find anything to challenge that. Reluctantly, he let go of Jun and stepped away from him.

“Don’t take long,” he asked before opening the door.

“I’ll be there in a second.”

***

On the way to Jun’s apartment, Wonwoo concluded it was safe enough to question Jihoon and Soonyoung over their insubordination.

“You two were supposed to stop anyone from entering that bathroom.”

“Well, your Highness,” Soonyoung ventured to reply. “The Hummingbird is not anyone, is he?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Kudos and comments really motivate me :) Let me know your thoughts on the story so far :)  
> I intend to post chapter 8 before the year ends, but let’s see if my sanity will last until then xD  
> Stay safe and take care on these difficult times :(


	8. Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wonwoo and Jun finally have a much needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're prepared for a ridiculous amount of fluffy.  
> (Enjoy, it's probably the last fluffy before the angst...)  
> Thanks for P that betaed this IN RECORD TIME. I honestly can't believe I'm posting it before the year ends...  
> Happy holidays, everyone!

Wonwoo pressed his birthday on the keypad at Jun’s door and heard the buzz when it opened. He entered the place, turning the lights on and closing the door behind him. Then, it was just him and Jun’s apartment. Wonwoo finally could pay attention to it.

The entrance opened to a spacious living room, set not for fanciness but to be lived in, with a comfortable couch by the wall facing a huge TV. There were at least three different game consoles installed. On the right side of the TV set, a colorful shelf held a collection of books and figure actions. Ignoring the uncomfortable sticky situation inside his pants, Wonwoo approached it to see the objects up close. Aside from some Korean learning books, they were mostly Chinese fantasy novels, from what Wonwoo could tell with his basic mandarin. The figure action ranged from mangas to American superhero movies, animations, and animes included in the mix. By its right side, the view from the window was superb, the skyline of Seoul at night never disappointing. A small table and two chairs were set by it, and at the center of the table was the Thai pepper tree Wonwoo had gifted Jun. He could imagine the sunbeams in the morning washing the set, straightening the little plant.

Wonwoo was about to touch its leaves when he heard the door open. For the third time that night, he watched Jun enter the room, but now his heart was peaceful. Although they hadn’t talked about anything yet, Wonwoo was serene. He was there with Jun, and that alone was already an improvement from the miserable week he had had. Besides that, there was something in Jun’s demure right now that tranquilized Wonwoo’s heart—somehow, he knew Jun would not want to be apart. Unmoving, they stared at each other for a while.

“Have you cleaned yourself?” Jun asked.

“No, I just got here.”

Jun reached out his hand in Wonwoo's direction. “Come on, let’s get ourselves cleaned,” he invited.

Wonwoo walked towards him and took his inviting hand. Smiling softly, Jun guided him through the path Wonwoo already knew. They entered his bedroom, but Jun didn’t stop before they were at the en suite bathroom. There, they undressed in silence, and Wonwoo marveled at how natural the whole situation was unwinding—he didn’t feel compelled to steal any glances nor felt Jun’s eyes on him. They were not submerged in sexual tension anymore, and what enveloped the air around them was a soothing partnership grounded in trust. Yet, when the time came and he and Jun shared the hot water under the shower, Wonwoo was pleased to be acquainted again to his skin, not because he urged to devour it, but because he wanted to learn every inch, learn how to tend to it from now on. He closed his eyes when Jun’s fingers massaged his scalp, he opened them when his own hands washed Jun’s back, and he met Jun’s gaze when his fingers carefully cleaned Wonwoo’s penis and testicles. After cleaning Jun in the same way, Wonwoo kindly cupped the other’s face under the shower stream and placed a tender kiss over his lips. His fingers had traced Jun’s body under the hot water, and although he had thought he was already familiar with every path on Jun’s skin, the feeling inside his chest proved him wrong. Touching Jun’s naked body would always feel like a first time experience, each time blooming a new sensation inside Wonwoo.

It was clear something had shifted around them. Their hunger was now a different kind.

When they were clean, Jun turned the shower off. He handed Wonwoo a towel and took one himself, but instead of drying his own body, he proceeded to attend Wonwoo’s. Wonwoo took the clue and used the towel in his hands to dry Jun as well, the same way they had showered.

“Did you eat tonight?” Jun inquired while drying Wonwoo’s hair with a towel.

“There was food at the opening?” he honestly couldn’t recall. His mind had been entirely Jun-focused the whole time.

Jun chuckled at his obliviousness. After they were both dry, he gave Wonwoo a spare robe and took his hand again, leading him back to the living room, then to the kitchen. The first thing Wonwoo noticed was how spacious it was. On the counter, which bordered the whole space, there were several _peculiar_ appliances. He could identify a hot dog griller, a cotton candy machine, and an ice cream maker. Other more usual appliances were also present, like a mixer and a rice cooker. When his eyes returned to Jun, the other already had a pot on the stove and was looking for something inside one of the cabinets.

“I hope you don’t mind, I won’t make anything fancy,” he apologized, taking a package of ramen out. “I’m a bit tired,” he added sheepishly.

“I really don’t mind. I’m tired too.”

Wonwoo approached him by the stove and watched him cook. It was clear Jun was used to cooking, his movements sure and precise. Jun added some leftovers from the fridge on their ramen, and very soon their plates were all set. Ignoring the six-seat dining table at the dining room right next to the living room, Jun headed for the two-seat one by the window that Wonwoo had noticed when he arrived.

“This view is beautiful,” Wonwoo said, taking in the night lights in contrast with the deep-blue sky.

“Yeah, I like to have dinner here when I have the time,” Jun shared.

And there it was, what Wonwoo had been so afraid of. Jun was sharing his daily life with him, and Wonwoo was being part of it. They haven’t talked yet. He ignored the fear of losing it all and focused on enjoying their meal and the peace surrounding them.

Maybe Jun was afraid too, because they ate in silence. Not of the bad, uncomfortable kind, but the one you can only share with who already knows you. Wonwoo insisted on washing the dishes, even if he had no memory of having done it before.

“I have a prince washing my dishes,” Jun mocked, after Wonwoo opened the tap way more than necessary, the strong stream hitting the porcelain bowl and soaking his robe entirely. Wonwoo shared his laughing after recovering from the shock. Jun helped him to finish and soon both of them were returning to Jun’s bedroom, turning the lights off behind them.

“Do you want any clothes to sleep on?”

“Hum,” Wonwoo considered. He was not the type to sleep naked, but the opportunity of sleeping with his skin touching Jun’s couldn’t just be ignored. However, at the same time it sounded comforting, it also surely would be overwhelming. He decided to compromise. “Maybe some underwear?”

Jun crooked his eyebrow over Wonwoo’s bold request of wearing Jun’s underwear.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I sleep naked,” he smirked, throwing the piece of clothing to Wonwoo.

 _I made the right choice, then_ , Wonwoo concluded. Of course he wanted to have sex with Jun again, but, right now, his body and mind needed to rest—both were finally acknowledging the weight he had been under on the previous days. He put on Jun’s underwear and took off his wet robe. He climbed the bed watching Jun discard his robe as well, revealing the skin Wonwoo would never get tired from.

They got under the light white sheets, and Jun tapped his phone to turn most of the lights off, creating a warm atmosphere. Wonwoo turned sideways to look at him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so comfortable.

“Hi,” Jun said, turning on his pillow to look back at him.

“Hi,” Wonwoo smiled. Jun reached to his face to carefully take Wonwoo’s glasses off, resting them on his nightstand. Wonwoo got a little closer to him—he didn’t want to see Jun in blurry lines.

“I guess we should talk,” Jun said softly, his fingers caressing Wonwoo’s hand, settled on the pillow close to Wonwoo’s cheek.

“I guess so.”

Jun sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry for teasing you with the pictures,” Jun started. He wasn’t looking at Wonwoo, but his hand continued to caress his hand. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss, about you. I was so scared you’d get tired of me or find someone else available to date you.”

“I don’t think I can’t physically get tired of you,” Wonwoo snorted, Jun’s fears sounding almost ridiculous to his ears. “I didn’t want to pressure in any way, I still don’t, really. I understand how your career is important to you, and I don’t want to intervene by any means. It’s just,” it was Wonwoo’s time to sigh. “I thought I could handle being whatever you wanted me to, but after we slept together…” he paused, caressing Jun’s cheek. “It was so obvious then that it wasn’t just to blow some steam. It was so good,” he chuckled, and Jun blushed, smiling in agreement. “To think it was a one-time thing, that I would never have you again. To wake up by your side in the morning, have breakfast together… knowing it wasn’t going to last… I couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jun rushed, caressing his cheeks as well. “I felt the same. When you left, I understood immediately. I felt terrible,” his eyes watered. “I know you left to respect my wishes. I almost didn’t send you that cat meme, but I missed you so much, I had to try.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t reply. I… I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Jun exhaled again, pausing to think. “I don’t talk much about it, but it wasn’t easy to come here, to Korea, you know? Learning the language was so difficult, getting interesting roles even more challenging… but the worst part was being away from my family for so long. For some time, I couldn’t go back often, I had to get established here. And I didn’t have many friends. My first agent wasn’t very helpful, and it was only after I found Minghao—correction, Minghao found me—that I didn’t feel so lonely. But Minghao is a friend, and I always wanted… a partner.” Jun paused, biting his lip. “I never found anyone who made me feel like you do. Not even in China. Many people have flirted with me, especially in the last years, but it never… _clicked_ as we do.” Then, he looked at Wonwoo seriously. “This week was the worst week of my life. It was even worse than my first week in this country, and that was terrifying, I didn’t really know anyone, or knew who to trust. Wonwoo,” he took Wonwoo’s hand on his and held it firmly. “This week we have been apart, I realized I can’t be away from you. It feels _wrong_. It feels like I’m throwing everything that matters away, and I don’t want to do that. I love my job, but I love myself more. And you’re right, I deserve to live more than a what if. That’s why,” he brought Wonwoo’s hand to his lips and kissed it lightly. “I want you to know I’m here for you, if you still want me.”

“Junnie…” Wonwoo kindly kissed his hand as well. “Of course, I’ll always want you,” he released Jun’s hands to bring him into an embrace, engulfing his head on Jun’s shoulder. “This week was horrible for me too. I missed you so much.”

They held each other tight in silence for some time. Wonwoo could feel the world returning to its normal axis by each second his skin was pressed against Jun’s warmth—it was absolutely irrational and at the same time the only thing that made sense.

“Before you kissed me,” Jun rested his head on the pillow again, maintaining their proximity. “I was so scared you weren’t interested… but also scared you were!” His eyes were downcast when he proceeded. “I was so attracted to you I could barely keep my hands away from you—Minghao says I have a clingy personality—, but then you kissed me… I almost lost it. It was so perfect, the garden, the flowers falling around us… I spent weeks unable to move on from that moment. Then you kept your distance—as you promised—, and I felt so guilty. As I was getting to know you, more and more I understood everything you had to give up for the crown… I didn’t want to make you give up on us too.”

“Junnie, if that’s the only reason—”

“No,” Jun interrupted him. “I’m falling for you like never before. It’s real and scary, and that’s why I want to give you everything that I possibly can.”

Wonwoo inhaled, astonished.

“You keep saying everything _I_ was supposed to say!” he complained, quickly moving to be on top of Jun, caging his face with his arms. Both their bodies were touching almost tip to toe. He caressed Jun’s nose with his and stared deeply into his eyes “Except I already fell a long time ago.”

Wonwoo kissed Jun’s lips slowly, savoring the taste of their confession.

“Argh! You’re making me all giddy! I still have things to say!”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Of course I have! How can we start a healthy relationship if I don’t apologize for thirst trapping you with those pictures?”

“A relationship?” Wonwoo smiled teasingly making Jun blush.

“I understand if you don’t want to label it or—”

“So you’re my boyfriend?”

Jun turned to face him, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yes,” he replied quickly, then bit his lip unsure. “If keeping it a secret is an issue to you—”

Wonwoo sighed.

“To be honest, I know the crown and the press will give us hell if they are aware of our relationship. I don’t think we can hide forever, though, but I want to have as much as a peaceful time with you as possible.”

“Me too,” Jun smiled fondly. “Can we be extra careful until the end of _Seoul Avenue_? If it became an issue, it wouldn’t be fair with everyone involved.”

“Of course,” Wonwoo caressed Jun’s fringe, his fingers slithering to his cheeks.

Jun leaned on his touch for a second, then frowned.

“You’re not leaning your weight on me,” he realized. Wonwoo smirked. “Are you _planking_ all this time? With one hand? You’re such a show-off!”

“You like it.”

“I like your _abs_! Not your exhibitionism.”

“Really? After all that half-naked pict—”

“Argh! Get away from me, you gym rat!”

Jun pulled Wonwoo away from him, laughing the whole time. Wonwoo wrestled him, but soon it was all forgotten since both were laughing too much. He regained his breath and realized his head was resting on Jun’s chest—he could even hear his heartbeat. He kissed the skin right over it and rested his chin on the toned chest, right in time to catch Jun yawning, eyes still watered from laughing.

“Sleepy?”

“Yeah, I barely slept this week.”

Wonwoo gave him a guilty look.

“I didn’t sleep well either.”

Jun motioned for Wonwoo to come up and lay over his pillow.

“I bet today we’ll sleep pretty well,” he smiled fondly. “Do you have any arrangements tomorrow?”

“No, and you?”

“I’ve some shooting, but only in the evening,” Jun reached out to caress Wonwoo’s hair. He retreated his hand and asked, unsure, “I can make you breakfast if you want to.”

“There is nothing I want more than that,” Wonwoo smiled fondly.

Jun returned his smile, relieved. He tapped his phone again to turn all the lights off, then turned to Wonwoo to spoon him. Wonwoo could feel Jun’s fingers lightly caressing his abs, not enticingly, but with care. Within Jun’s arms, he fell asleep almost instantly.

***

Wonwoo opened his eyes and found Jun watching him.

“You stayed,” he simply said.

They weren’t spooning anymore. Jun’s legs were still entangled with his, but their heads were laying on different pillows. They were still close, though.

“Of course I stayed,” Wonwoo turned to face Jun as well. “You’re going to make me breakfast.”

“Oh, I will!” Jun smiled broadly, then smirked. “But first…”

He finished his sentence getting under the sheets and sliding down the bed. Wonwoo was confused for a second until Jun got comfortable between his legs and took off Wonwoo’s underwear.

“Oh, god,” he was not prepared to be awakened like that, with sure lips enveloping his semi-hard cock before he even realized he was aroused.

Jun’s tongue was encircling his head, bringing Wonwoo’s cock to full mast. He heard his own moans before noticing they were leaving his lips and found his hands firmly grabbing the sheets. The only issue was that he couldn’t see Jun in action, and that wasn’t acceptable, so he shoved the sheets aside in one fast motion.

The image revealed was Jun smirking at him, a second before taking Wonwoo’s cock entirely into his mouth.

“Fuck!”

The unforgiving up and down pace Jun established wouldn’t allow him to last long, and, although the whole situation made it difficult to concentrate, it had surely awakened Wonwoo. His mind was catching up with his cock.

“Junnie, wait,” he begged. “I wanna fuck you.”

Jun stopped immediately and lifted his head to look at Wonwoo, the cock slowly sliding out of his mouth, his lips swollen and wet.

“I’d like that very much, Prince Wonwoo,” he teased.

Wonwoo grimaced.

“No royal titles in bed, please.”

“Oh, so if we’re in the shower…?” Jun faked innocence, crawling back to Wonwoo.

“Not in the shower, not never when we’re alone,” Wonwoo asked seriously.

Jun paused, caging him with his arms, one on each side of Wonwoo’s head. His gaze was determined.

“Only if you agree to always do what you want when we are together.”

“Fair enough,” Wonwoo considered. He knew it wouldn’t be easy since it was the exact opposite of his daily life for years now, but if Jun was requesting it, Wonwoo was certain he could do it.

Satisfied with his response, Jun sat on Wonwoo’s lap, their hard-ons side by side. Wonwoo sat on the bed, reaching to fetch the lube by Jun’s nightstand. He squeezed some on his fingers, and Jun stood on his knees to allow Wonwoo to prep him. Jun’s hands were lazily entangled in Wonwoo’s hair, and from time to time, his head would drop to Wonwoo’s shoulder, his tiny moans whispered into Wonwoo’s skin. When he was ready, Jun gradually descended into Wonwoo’s cock, but as soon as he was seated—his mouth agape—Wonwoo turned them and pinned him against the bed without ceasing their connection. Jun’s legs instinctively circled Wonwoo’s waist. 

“I wanna take my time with you,” he explained. 

“Whatever you want,” Jun smiled satisfied.

Wonwoo wanted to debouch Jun thrust by thrust, as slowly and deep as he could possibly manage. Pounding into Jun, he never broke their eye contact and did his best to keep their lips somewhat connected at all times. They both nibbed at each other’s lower lip, licked it, or just brushed their wet mouths against each other’s. Under the leisurely pace of Wonwoo’s hips, and, at some point, the light touches of his fingers over Jun’s leaking cock, they reached their breaking point, one right after the other.

They spread themselves over the bed to catch their breaths, legs still entangled, but Jun’s head was by the headboard and Wonwoo in the opposite direction.

“I think Jihoon and Soonyoung, maybe even Jeonghan, are helping me to get closer to you,” Wonwoo confessed, finding Jun’s fingers over the sheets.

“I think Minghao is up to something as well,” he heard Jun’s voice. “It makes no sense. Our relationship only brings trouble to all of them.”

Wonwoo rolled up, leaning towards Jun.

“I thought the same thing, but I don’t want to probe into it. To be honest, I think we need all the help we can get.”

“I know,” Jun agreed, his face more thoughtful than ever.

“Junnie,” Wonwoo exhaled. He knew what he had to say wasn’t good for their brand-new arrangement. “It won’t be easy, the hiding. And if the press found out—”

“ _—when_ the press found out.”

Wonwoo paused, affected by the reality of Jun’s interruption.

“It could be really bad for you—”

“I’m willing to take the risks,” Jun cut him off again, rolling up to level with Wonwoo. “And despite what may look like, I’m not doing it for you, Wonwoo, is not a sacrifice. I’m doing it for _me_. I just want to be happy, and that happens by your side.”

Touched, Wonwoo placed his hand on Jun’s cheek, leaning on until their foreheads met. He closed his eyes and exhaled, whispering to Jun’s lips, “If our best days are counted and our destiny is sealed, let’s make it worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts so far!  
> So… this concludes the first part of this story (“Getting together”, as I call it in my head). Lots of angst ahead =O  
> I’ll be taking a break to outline the second part and rest a little since I’m a bit burnt out. I may post some short fics until then, and I hope I can finally reply to comments (I’m so behind :( but I’ve read all of them and they warmed my heart <3).  
> I hope you can understand my break and continue reading when I get back. Take care, everyone!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/keepcaratin)  
> [CC](https://curiouscat.me/keepcaratin)  
> [more fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumntulip/works)


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